


How to Survive a Reality TV Dating Show...Without Really Trying

by katietonks



Series: Welcome Back to Love Island! [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Everyone, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Hair-pulling, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Humor, Lingerie, Love Island, M/M, Meet-Cute, Oral Sex, Reality TV, Reality TV Dating, Rimming, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Shower Sex, Spanking, Stockings, Strip Tease, Summer, Top Steve Rogers, Updates Daily, Vacation, a smidgeon of angst, dating show, lawyer bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 60
Words: 185,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katietonks/pseuds/katietonks
Summary: Serious, cynical, workaholic Bucky Barnes only has one goal for his participation in a summer-long, reality TV dating competition: to leave as soon as possible. He has no interest in playing along, following the unspoken rules or forming relationships with the other contestants, and he definitely has no interest in falling in love.(But perhaps his steadfast notions will be challenged by one particular handsome, blonde contestant, unlike any of the others.)AKA: The Love Island!AU you never knew you needed.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Welcome Back to Love Island! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073258
Comments: 1504
Kudos: 583





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the wonderful world of Love Island! 
> 
> If you've seen the show before, you're going to love this fic. If you've never even heard of the show, you're going to love this fic. This Stucky-heavy story will follow Bucky as he navigates the ridiculous world of a reality TV dating show that he knows nothing about, completely out of his element. Any of the specific Love Island idioms/events will be explained as we go along with the main focus on watching the relationship between Bucky and Steve progress in this specific context.
> 
> To start off, those who watch the show know that a hilarious narrator occasionally supplies commentary to progress the story, and I definitely wanted to capture that aspect into this story. Any of those lines will be in italics and brackets, as you can see from the very beginning.

**Episode 1**

[ _Ah, yes. Another fun-filled summer in paradise. The sun is shining. A lovely breeze is in the air. A piña colada is in my hand in the recording booth, and we have ten, gorgeous singles in a holding area, dying to meet each other and waiting to be introduced to the millions of viewers that will proceed to judge their romantic exploits over the span of eight weeks while they remain detached from the rest of society in a luxury resort on a tiny island off the coast of Spain. Without further ado, let’s meet our first contestant. He couldn’t be more excited to be here…_ ]

“I have zero interest in being here.”

The producer glanced up at him, raising his eyebrows, from where he sat with his legs crossed on a chair beside the camera. He flipped a page on his clipboard. “Well, clearly you must have some interest if you made it this far.”

Bucky shrugged. “My best friend is obsessed with all this reality TV bullshit. It’s her absolute dream to be here. I found the application for her, but she refused to fill it out unless someone else did it with her. I never expected us to actually make it this far. Every level that we passed together just made her happier and happier, so by the time we reached the final audition, I couldn’t pull out and ruin her fantasy. She’s convinced that the two of us are going to meet our soulmates, or whatever, here, and then we can have matching weddings – or whatever.

“Being here, for her, is heaven. She’s the center of attention, surrounded by pretty people, and she gets an excuse to miss the boring training months of the summer season to relax in paradise for two months. Being here, for me, though, is a prison. This is _hell_. I’m the center of attention, being ogled at like a piece of meat, surrounded by airhead influencers who are only here to inflate their Instagram follower counts, and I’m missing out on two months of work, while simultaneously losing respect from my clients and colleagues every time that my face is on screen.”

“Well,” the producer said with a sigh, settling back further into his chair and clearing his throat, “that is a very nihilistic approach to my show that I can’t say I’ve heard from a contestant before.” He smiled. “I can respect that.”

Bluntly and somewhat shamelessly, Bucky admitted, “I figured if there’s a loophole to get me any chance of an early exit, one of the producers would know of it.”

The producer nodded but narrowed his eyes. “It’s not that easy. Your contract kind of assumes that you’re here to play by the rules-”

“I know,” Bucky said, not meaning to interrupt, rather intending to spare him the hassle of reciting the rudimentary stipulations of the 50-page document. “I read it.”

The honesty in that sentiment certainly caught the producer off guard again, piquing his interest enough to flip back to the first page of the packet on his clipboard and scribble down a note. “Can’t say I’ve heard that one before either.”

“Is there anything you can do for me?”

A pained expression preceded his explanation: “I mean, the fastest way to get kicked off the show is to call one of the girls a cunt or be deemed physically or mentally unwell by the medical staff to continue, but I can’t imagine you’d find either of those options particularly appealing. I could suggest another option that would be fun for both of us, but I quite like my job and don’t feel like finding another one.” Bucky found himself mirroring the man’s smirk, knowing that he was referring to the _Non-Fraternization Clause_ in Section 5, which essentially just prohibited the contestants from sleeping with the staff. “Otherwise, you might have to stick it out, play the game, and wait until the first elimination, which anyone who’s seen the show before knows happens within the first week.”

By the way he spoke so simply of the concept, Bucky felt a bit discouraged to admit that the only times he had watched the show were with Nat, who only convinced him to sit through an entire episode by promising copious amounts of their favorite local microbrews from the obnoxiously indie-hipster gastropub that neither would admit to enjoying. He settled for a simple, “Okay.”

“Until then, we might as well shoot your introduction, like everyone else before you has done with no issues.” The jab at Bucky was obvious, but he didn’t say it maliciously. “Start from the beginning and pretend I’m not here. You can talk about where you’re from or what you do or what you want to get out of Love Island. Just make sure you include your name in the beginning.”

“Does it matter what order I say everything else?”

The producer shook his head. “After being bombarded with nine more of these, no one is really listening to you anyway. They’ll be too busy staring at your abs and deciding whether or not you’ll be one of their favorites, based on if they’d fuck you personally or if your name pairs nicely with someone else’s.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Bucky mumbled, crossing his arms after suddenly feeling self-conscious and particularly shiny from the body oil that he had been instructed to apply and reapply generously throughout the day.

“Plus, our editors will cut it however they want to make it sound like you’re able to convey a cohesive thought.” (Bucky also knew that the editors would gladly omit or combine disjunctive soundbites to build their own narrative based on out-of-context things that he said.) “So, whenever you’re ready.”

Bucky sighed and brushed a strand of hair from his face. “My name is Bucky Barnes.”

“Great. Now pretend that you want to be here.”

Clenching his jaw, Bucky bared his teeth in the tense smile that had passed him through all rounds of live auditions, lightening his tone. “My name is Bucky Barnes.”

“Perfect. Now say that to the camera.”

Bucky realized that his attention had exclusively been trained on the man who appeared to be enjoying this torment far too much. Sighing again, he looked at the camera and tried again, “My name is Bucky Barnes.” When the producer didn’t respond, he looked back over to him. “Now what?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you do for a living, and feel free to include as many innuendos and sexy details as you’d like. That’s what everyone else does.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. “There is almost nothing sexy about my job.”

“I’m sure we can find something. What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“That’s great!” the producer said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic as he leaned forward. “Have you defended any famous clients? Seen any grisly murders? Been held in contempt?”

Almost sorry to disappoint, Bucky shook his head. “Not that kind of law.”

“What kind of law then?”

“Elder law,” Bucky said, failing to keep a straight face at the smile that was instantly wiped from the producer’s face. “I help advise clients on how to plan financially for retirement and write their wills. There’s nothing really sexy about 401k’s and the thought of old people dying.”

The producer shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a fan of bank accounts with large balances, and I find the thought of one less boomer in the electorate to be quite sexy.”

“Well, that’s a very nihilistic approach to my practice,” Bucky said, uncertain if he should be laughing in front of the camera or if he should be laughing at all.

Noticing his hesitation, the producer assured him and laughed anyway at his own comment. “Trust me, they won’t use any of this, considering how much I’ve said, but the editors will very much appreciate this conversation.” As he composed himself, he wrote another note on his clipboard. “Okay, when I shut up, finish this off by describing your dream type and lie about what you want to get out of this experience. A bit of forewarning: no matter what you say, it’ll come off as either desperate or creepy, so keep that in mind.”

Genuinely, Bucky smiled and turned to the camera, staring into the lens as he mentally prepared to be ridiculed by the people who used to respect him, reciting a few lines from his first application. “Personality is everything to me. I really don’t care what a person looks like if we have an instant connection and similar interests. I’m twenty-nine, so I’m also looking for someone who’s ready to settle down in a more serious, committed relationship. This summer, I guess you could say that I’m hoping to find the love of my life on Love Island.”

The producer nodded along, appearing almost impressed. “Very succinct and professional. Nearly coherent. Now all we need is to get your flirty gestures and mannerisms that’ll play in between your monologue.”

“You’re joking. There’s more?”

“Please, you’re lucky. I still have five more of these to do,” the producer said with a groan despite the corners of his mouth quirking upward. “And I only joke about old people dying. Now, blow kisses at the camera or flex or look debonair.”

Feeling the corners of his own lips rise, Bucky asked, “Can you define ‘debonair’ for me?”

“Sure. It means don’t piss off the only person who can help you get that early exit.”

Surprisingly content, Bucky settled for playing with his hair: toying with the ends, curling strands around his fingers, pulling out his hair-tie to let it fall freely across his shoulders, and tying it up and pulling it out again to get another take after being told it would be a “cool shot” in slow motion.

After they apparently gathered enough footage of whatever the hell he was doing, the producer walked Bucky to the door of the small hut. “So, next, you’ll be waiting to start the first coupling in which you’ll either choose or be chosen as a viable match, entirely based on your appearance. Unbelievably reductive. You’ll love it.”

“Can’t wait,” Bucky agreed, completely deadpan.

With his hand on the doorknob, the producer turned back to him. “Thanks for this, by the way. That was easily the most entertaining first interview I’ve ever had with a contestant.”

“Do you do all of these singular interview sessions?”

“Just about.”

“Then, can I ask for your name?” Seeing the surprise illuminate in his blue eyes, Bucky added, “Or is that another thing that contestants don’t usually ask?”

“Only the ones who didn’t read the contract,” he said with a smirk, eyes still sparkling even in the shadows. “I’m Steve.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Steve was right about the first coupling: it was unbelievably reductive.

The whole ordeal began with Bucky standing awkwardly at the entrance to the villa, wearing only his swim trunks and shifting his weight back and forth between his feet in his sandals. Staring blankly at the door as he waited for further instructions, he examined the cracks in the wood, feeling oddly sympathetic toward the weathering. Another producer reminded him to “look excited” as he walked through the house – an abstract-art level of architecture. He plastered on a smile but wondered if the camera that he followed captured the initial shock and dilation of his eyes adjusting to the contrast of blindingly-white walls, modern and boxy, bright and almost clinical, and the spiral staircase to his right, painted with the obviously harmonious colors of orange and Barbie doll pink. Furthering the onslaught of neon, he clenched his teeth at the sayings that were splattered in Sharpie-highlighter colors along the walls, including _savage_ and _selfie_. Thankfully, _to the pool_ in fluorescent blue guided him through the clear linear path past the angular couch, through the sliding doors of the bedroom, and out onto the deck. Past the bar and kitchenette and down a few steps, a woman was waiting for him beside the cool, clear water.

He greeted the host – an apparently huge name in the entertainment world that he had never heard of before. Poised in a long, elegant, fuchsia gown that caught the light breeze, Bucky could easily see how she was a retired supermodel. (Although, he wasn’t entirely sure how looking beautiful in sponsored clothing and jewelry gave her the authority to judge a singing competition in addition to this dating show.)

“Bucky,” Janet said, welcoming him with a smile as warm as the sun that shone down on them, “before you are five of the nation’s most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes.”

Before him were, in fact, two men and three women – one of which was Nat, who immediately stood out in the middle with her red hair and designer black bikini with straps that crisscrossed around her back and stomach. Bucky didn’t understand it, but she insisted on splurging it after they both received the final call that they were accepted to be on the show. She smiled at him as soon as he walked out.

Squinting into the sun, he smiled back, as he was most likely expected to already be doing.

Janet looked up from her notecards and pointed out, “It looks like you and Nat already know each other.”

He nodded. “She’s my best friend, and I am so incredibly lucky to be here with her right now.”

That manufactured comment earned a few _aw_ ’s from the other contestants, and the girl beside Nat raised her hand to her chest, as if he had said something truly endearing or profound.

“Well, there are four other pretty people who are dying to meet you, and it’s your decision to pick who you’d like to get to know first. As you can see, you get the first pick of who you’d like to be coupled up with, which is one of the most important decisions you’ll make. In this partnership, you will compete in challenges together, potentially save each other from elimination based on public opinion, and even sleep in the same bed together. Of course, you’ll have many opportunities to change your partner, but this first one will greatly help you connect with the other Islanders. To make your first decision a little easier, I ask that anyone who likes Bucky to please step forward.”

Bucky swallowed, surprisingly nervous considering that he didn’t really care what any of these people thought of him based on a superficial first-impression. Plus, Nat warned him that they usually saved the models for last, so people often waited to step forward until then. To save him the embarrassment of no one stepping forward, she had promised to step forward for him, as he had promised to do if their positions were reversed. Stepping onto the wooden circle in front of her, she did just that.

But she wasn’t the only one to take a step across the turf. The man on the far left moved a step closer, beaming as he did it with perhaps the friendliest grin he had ever seen. Bucky couldn’t help but match it.

“Nat,” Janet said, “you stepped forward for Bucky. Why?”

Nat shrugged. “He’s hot as hell, and you’d be stupid not to step forward.”

Before turning to the man, Janet gave the other Islanders time to look between themselves, while Nat winked at him, standing confidently. “Sam. You also stepped forward. Why?”

_Sam_ still hadn’t taken his eyes off of Bucky, appearing perfectly content with his decision. “I’m not really the type of person to judge someone based on looks alone, but damn, I’ll gladly be the first – or I guess, second – to admit that I think you’re ridiculously gorgeous.” Bucky glanced at Nat to see her nod once, as if confirming that this guy was alright. “And long hair is totally my thing.”

Letting out a lighthearted laugh, Bucky brushed a strand of his long hair from his face, unsure if he was moving his hand intentionally or subconsciously.

“Alright, Bucky, you’ve heard from two of the Islanders, but you’re welcome to pick from any of the five. So,” Janet said, dragging it out for what he assumed to be a contractually-obligated number of seconds, “who would you like to couple up with?”

Bucky looked between the two who had stepped forward and then the other three, even though the decision appeared simple from his perspective. “The person I’d like to couple up with is,” he paused, as instructed by the producer at the front of the villa, before turning to his left, “Sam.”

Sam seemed almost surprised to hear his name, raising his eyebrows, and Bucky was almost surprised to say it, amazed that he had a vague interest in someone on this show and that person had a vague interest in him. As he approached his first partner, the other Islanders clapped, and Nat reached out to squeeze his arm as he passed. Sam greeted him with a brief hug, whispering, “Hi there,” when they pulled away.

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky replied once he took his place at his side.

After being aligned into a better place by a producer beside the main camera rig, the next contestant walked out: a pretty blonde who almost immediately paired herself with a tall, muscular brunette who he assumed was actually a goddess in human form.

Continuing with the mythical legend theme and apparently breaking tradition with the one-model-saved-for-the-end rule, a blond man with a booming voice and arms that appeared capable of lifting a bus or twelve joined them, opening those arms and greeting them all as “friends.” Everyone stood forward for him, except the four in couples; although, they all must have certainly felt compelled. He thanked them all, listening to their short introductions, before choosing the shorter, artificial-redhead next to Nat. She clapped politely, but like everyone else, it was with a faint hesitation. 

Next was an overly-excited man with a few tattoos that looked like he got in college, and he tripped getting onto the platform, laughing and blaming it on nerves. Bucky resisted the urge to roll his eyes at yet another funny-guy who used humor to cover up his insecurities. Even with a limited knowledge of the show, he knew that there was always one per season, and they made Nat groan and throw popcorn at her flat screen. Which is why Bucky was shocked and almost horrified to see her laughing along with the group as she stepped forward. Clearly, she was just playing nice for the show, maybe feeling slightly nervous that she hadn’t been picked yet, but that would change this round, as she accepted the new class clown by her side. Bucky wondered if the camera could pick up on his disbelief when he clapped.

“That leaves us with one final Islander to meet, and it looks like he’s on his way now.”

Eager to get the first glimpse, everyone stood on their toes, leaning left and right, to peak around the fake foliage and patio furniture. The first thing that Bucky saw was white, flowing fabric that reached a pair of tan leather, bohemian – _was that a fashion term he’d picked up from Becca?_ – heels, leading to long, long legs. Beside him, whispers broke out and someone whistled. As soon as he was in full view, Bucky could hear in his head the bass-heavy music that would accompany the slow-motion introduction of this particular Islander. Hell, he already walked to the beat – each step precise and calculated but falling with carefree ease. With a tight-fitting swimsuit underneath the floor-length, fringed wrap, Bucky felt safe to assume that this particular Islander was _the_ model of the season. 

When he arrived at the pool deck, he immediately embraced Janet, who greeted him first. “Nice to see you again.”

The other Islanders laughed – a joke that Bucky was not in on. “Nice to see you too,” he replied and took his place on the platform, where he naturally seemed to belong.

“Riley Jones, everyone!” she said, extending her arm and encouraging the group to respond with explosive applause.

Wondering if anyone else was confused, Bucky looked around to see everyone else’s focus completely latched onto the new man.

He brushed off the praise as he brushed back his shoulder-length, bleach-blond hair, looked between each of the nine people in front of him, and smiled, saying in a warm, southern drawl, “Ain’t this a dream come true.”

“As you can see, Brock is the only Islander left without a partner, but if you would like to choose one of the Islanders who is coupled up, your options are Wanda, Nat, Val, and Sam.” Bucky swallowed, unaware that was even a possibility. “To make your choice a little easier, I ask that anyone who likes Riley to step forward.”

Perhaps to his – and everyone’s – surprise, only one person stood forward: the single man on the far left. “A lot of people loyal to their partners,” Riley observed. “I appreciate that.”

Continuing with her lines, Janet asked, “Brock, why did you step forward?”

A few of the other Islanders chuckled softly, and he shrugged. “Obviously, I don’t have a partner yet, but truly, it’d be an honor to get to know someone as talented and beautiful as you.”

Riley raised a hand to his chest and nodded in a silent ‘thank you.’

Every time his eyes swept through the lineup, Bucky noticed them land in his direction.

“Is there anyone who’s catching your eye?” Janet asked.

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Riley,” she began, “who would you like to couple up with?”

His eyes swept over again, stopping at Bucky, and then he gave a bittersweet smile. “Goodness, I really hate to do this, but the person I’d like to couple up with is,” he paused, and Bucky felt his jaw tighten, somehow knowing that he was going to say, “Sam.”

Bucky stepped to the side, sparing a glance at Sam who offered him an apologetic half-shrug but welcomed Riley with the same kind embrace as he had received.

“So that leaves Bucky and Brock as our final couple,” Janet said.

The others clapped for an insultingly long time, filling the tense silence of Bucky walking the entire length of the pool to stand by his new partner. It wasn’t that Bucky disliked Brock, having never met him, or he had no interest in getting to know him; it was more that he was starting to see the appeal of dating based on first impressions solely gathered from appearances, and as soon as he’d grown comfortable, naively complacent, the rug had been pulled from beneath his feet. Plus, if he was being completely honest with himself, the slicked-up-too-much-hair-gel look in 2020 combined with a cocky smirk instantly gave him a bad feeling in the form of a sour taste in his mouth.

For having no type, Bucky certainly added two new checkboxes to the list of things that it _wasn’t_.

“Congratulations, Islanders! We officially have our first couples of 2020: Sam and Riley, Val and Carol, Nat and Clint, Wanda and Thor, and Brock and Bucky.” The ten responded with cheers and applause during which Brock took the liberty of slipping his arm around Bucky’s waist, instantly making his skin crawl. Bucky smiled at the camera instead of pushing him away. “With that, why don’t our new couples have a chance to officially meet?”

That final line apparently meant that Janet’s allotted fifteen minutes of screen time were up, and they were allowed to freely roam, not too unlike cattle in a pasture after being let out of the barn. Two of the couples, Wanda and Thor and Sam and Riley, had taken seats in the more secluded corners of the deck, while everyone else piled onto the daybeds pushed together.

After exchanging names, Nat’s partner Clint suggested, “Shall we start with jobs?”

“I think we should try to guess each other’s,” Carol said and then pointed between Nat and Bucky, joking, “Obviously you two can’t play.”

Nat shrugged. “I would have guessed you were all athletes and models anyway.”

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” Val mused, resting her head on her hand from where she lounged on her side. “I’m a professional tennis player.” She grinned at Carol beside her who suddenly looked even more pleased with her decision. “I’m guessing that you also play a sport.”

“Used to. I was the captain of my soccer team in college, but now, I’m a physical therapist.”

“ _Ooh_ , a doctor, huh?”

With a hint of a blush warming the high points of her cheeks, Carol nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I bet there’s another doctor here,” Clint said, looking around at the five in the circle and the four behind him. “Someone else _has_ to have some initials after their name.”

“Well,” Nat began but was instantly shushed by Carol and Val.

Turning the attention back to him, Clint nudged Nat, and Bucky bit the inside of his cheek as he listened. “I bet you have, like, a serious, intense, top-secret job. Like you work for the CIA or FBI or something.”

Nat caught Bucky’s eye before they both laughed. “Not quite,” Nat said, letting him down gently. “I’m a dancer for the New York City Ballet.”

Clint’s eyes widened, as did everyone else’s, and his mouth gaped open. “No way! That’s so cool. That’s actually, like, way cooler than if you told me you were James Bond. And that’s not even too far from what I do.”

“Something in entertainment?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Are you a musician?”

He shook his head.

“Actor?”

“Not exactly.”

Unwilling to give up so easily, Nat narrowed her eyes at him – a look that Bucky had become well-acquainted with after many board game nights. “Director?”

“Nope.”

“Writer?”

“ _No_.”

She sighed. “Fine. Then what do you do?”

Before answering, he looked around the group as if to check that they had his full attention, holding out his hands to build anticipation. “Okay, so my family owns a travelling circus, and I grew up with it, y’know. Saw all the behind-the-scenes production and business side of things. Trained with some of the performers. And, now, I have a whole segment in the show where I do archery tricks and trapeze tricks and archery on the trapeze tricks, which is kind of my own thing that I created and I’m really glad that it caught on. But, yeah. That’s what I do.” He opened his arms wide and gave a full smile, like a child saying _Ta-Da!_ and waiting for their parents’ approval of their crayon drawing stuck on the fridge.

In utter disbelief, or maybe even horror, Bucky stared at Nat, feeling his eyebrows stretch high onto his forehead and dying to know what brutally-honest thing she was planning to say.

“That is really,” she said, “amazing. That’s fascinating and unique. I’d really love to know more about it.”

As he looked around the circle, Bucky was surprised again to hear that “cool” and “awesome” was the general consensus, even from Nat. Instead of meeting his line of sight, she continued to ogle at Clint, who worshipped her right back, and Bucky simply couldn’t raise his eyebrows any higher. _She had to be acting._ Joking. After all the years that they had known each other and all the _Cosmo_ quizzes that they had taken together late at night throughout high school, he knew that there was no way – no way in hell – that she would be interested in a literal _circus clown_.

Bucky realized, a bit to his disappointment, that the attention had then turned to him and his partner. Brock spoke up first, “With a body like that, you’re a dancer too, right?”

Bucky shook his head. “No.”

“Model?”

Once Bucky shook his head for a second time, that apparently exhausted all of Brock’s guesses. “I’m a lawyer.”

Seeing the initial excitement and hearing a gasp or two, Nat corrected them before Bucky could. “Not the kind you’re thinking of.”

“I specialize in elder law,” Bucky said, filling in the rest.

Val seemed relatively familiar with the concept. “Like helping to write wills?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I help advise for retirement too, but that’s less dramatic.”

“Wow,” Brock said. “I never would have guessed that.”

Shrugging off the comment, Bucky was uncertain if that was a compliment or not.

“I never knew that lawyers could actually be pretty,” was Brock’s next comment, and Bucky was certain that this one was definitely _not_.

“What do you do?” Bucky asked, wanting to clear the palpable tension that had formed and end the ‘game’ as soon as possible.

Apparently, Brock wanted to keep playing. “Guess.”

“A cop?”

“No, but my uncle is,” Brock said with a laugh. “I own a gym. Can’t you tell?”

He flexed, and Bucky nodded but held his breath to keep himself from sighing, instead playing along and pretending to be impressed. “Obviously. I should have guessed.”

“Well, I’d love to show you around sometime. I do a bit of training too, and I wouldn’t mind giving you a private lesson. Not that you need it.”

Bucky knew that Nat could see the glint of pain that flashed over his eyes, but to the rest of the group, he remained unfazed. His blatant disinterest in “talking privately,” however, could easily be seen through his unhurried movements while following Brock.

The swing moved beneath them as they settled onto the white cushions. Brock propped his elbow up on the backrest, as if trying to show off his bicep again, and Bucky kept his arms crossed over his chest. When Brock leaned closer to him, Bucky noted something wolfish in his grin, something sharp and intimidating. “So tell me what it’s like being a bigshot attorney, making the big bucks. Do you work for some large, powerful firm?”

Unsure of when he had given him that impression, Bucky shook his head. “I started my own practice.”

“That’s a great feeling, isn’t it? Owning your own business. Building something from the ground up. Small businesses are the backbone of the economy, you know?”

Bucky tightened the grip on his arm until he was practically pinching himself to keep his face straight. “Yeah, sure.”

“And it’s always nice to be able to set your own hours, so you can sleep in and take a day off whenever you want.”

“Of course,” Bucky said, as a natural early-riser who had never taken a day off in his life.

Brock nodded along, like this conversation was going well or maybe he just liked hearing his own voice. “What do you want from this whole thing? What are you looking for?”

“Well,” Bucky began, flipping to that particular flashcard tucked away in his brain, “I’m really looking for something serious that could eventually lead to something long-term.”

“Ready to settle down?"

“Definitely.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way. I’m sure everyone else in their thirties can relate.”

Bucky grit his teeth. “I mean, I’m twenty-nine, but sure.” 

The pain must have finally worked its way to form a line between Bucky’s eyebrows, sending a distress signal to Nat who magically appeared by his side. “Let’s chat,” she said, pulling him away and all the way into the empty bedroom.

Bucky didn’t even have the emotional capacity to react to the line of eight IKEA display-ready beds with their names stitched into the pillows or the unavoidable fact that his specific pillow sat right beside Brock’s. Before she could ask, he instantly launched into an explanation. “Listen, I know you’re going to tell me that I’m being too harsh and I should give him a chance, but Nat, I can’t. I really just can’t.”

With her face openly issuing an apology, she nodded. “I know, but I still want you to remember–”

“He thinks I’m some money-hungry lawyer or some other godawful misconception of what I do-”

“Remember-”

“He called me old!”

She gripped his shoulders and lowered her voice to a tone that resonated something endearing yet highly threatening. “I am well aware that this means nothing to you, but you need to remember that it’s still early in this process. A lot can change, and a lot _will_ change. Anything can happen. They’ll bring in new people and switch things around on us. Almost no one stays with their original partner past week one. I mean, look who I’m partnered up with.”

The reminder put a slight smile on his face, and he whispered, “A circus performer, Nat.”

“I know,” she said with a huff of a laugh, shaking her head. “The genuine class clown of the season.”

“Your worst nightmare. You dropping him as soon as possible?”

She glanced to the side where her and Clint’s bed had been made, designated with their pillows. “I think I need to give him a chance.” Squeezing his shoulders again, she continued before he could interject. “I know it’s crazy, but he’s easily one of the most interesting people here. It’s been really fascinating talking to him, and I’m actually looking forward to getting to know him over the next few days. At the very least, maybe we’ll end up as friends, or – I don’t know, maybe more?” She sighed, as if just as unable to believe the words she was saying as Bucky was when hearing them, and shrugged, repeating, “ _Anything can happen_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything can happen, indeed.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading the first episode!
> 
> This story will update DAILY, so check back in every day to make sure you never miss an update. Each update will be ~1.5-3k words; I felt it was necessary for this chapter to be extra long to give you a proper introduction to the show and the characters. Yes, the rating will be changed to E, and I will update the dirty tags when we get there, ya nasties.
> 
> If you're a little confused by some of the couples, have no fear! A ton of changes are going to happen throughout this story. 
> 
> If you hate Brock Rumlow, rest assured that he is in no way going to be a major character and won't be hanging around very long. (We all need an easily-disposable, shithead villain.) 
> 
> Also, Riley is referring to Sam's partner in Winter Solider, and since Disney mentioned him twice and gave us one picture, I took the liberty of making him a supermodel. You're welcome!
> 
> I live my life through music, so naturally, I pair specific songs to my writing that capture the feeling and vibe of a certain moment, which I will gladly share with you to enhance your reading experience. This chapter's soundtrack: "Feels Like Summer" - Weezer.
> 
> As always, I absolutely love hearing your feedback, so please feel free to leave kudos and comments. And you can finally follow me and reblog the story on Tumblr at: buckyandthejets.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the encouraging words on the previous chapter! I think you'll enjoy this chapter just as much, if not more :)

**Episode 2**

Sleeping in the same bed as a stranger proved to be even more of an uncomfortable experience than Bucky had predicted to be an already uncomfortable experience. The mattress was fine, conforming to his body in a not-too-soft yet not-too-firm material. The body beside him, however, was less fine, insisting on molding to his body with a nonchalant touch and forcing Bucky to shake off his advances, inching closer and closer to the side of the bed. By morning, with the room still dark, he found one foot dangling over the edge, catching a draft, and he had already blinked too many times for his eyelids to remain closed.

He sighed.

Reaching for his Love Island-issued cell phone on the nightstand, lacking all of his usual contacts and all other functions aside from receiving instructions from the producers, he saw that it was too early to be awake or for anyone else to be awake. But it was the perfect opportunity to explore the villa by himself.

The bathroom upstairs followed the same theme of pristine white with colorful accents, accompanied with faux marble countertops. Leaving far too little for the imagination, the doors to the shower were made of a clear glass with only a portion in the middle frosted for ‘modesty,’ but the water grew to the practically-scalding temperature that he liked, so he figured that it could be worse.

Downstairs, the couch in the living room could hold all ten of them and more, looking exaggeratedly lonely without anyone there. The walls were lined with confusing patches of turf and bookshelves without books, which Bucky felt to be a heavy-handed metaphor or inside joke or maybe just avoiding dealing with copyright law.

The kitchenette on the deck was stocked well enough for them to make simple meals in between the catering, and the fridge was filled with product-placement juices that the staff were probably instructed to refill every day. He picked an apple out of the bowl of fruit on the island, as he admired the plastic stemware and dishes that rested on shelves along the wall – nothing glass, nothing that could break or shatter, nothing that they could harm themselves with. He shook his head; everything was a goddamn liability on this show.

With the sun just barely rising on the horizon and no one else awake or outside, Bucky helped himself to the gym beside the pool. He hoped that the familiar motions of a few basic exercises would help him fall into a comforting routine – lifting a weight, putting it back down, lifting a weight, putting it back down – as he reasoned with his situation. _Within the first week_ , the producer had said. He could survive until then. He could ‘play the game,’ put on a happy face, and be friendly to the other contestants without forming meaningful bonds that would keep him on the show. After spending the rest of the evening with the whole group, listening to the rest of their brief biographies, he learned that they were interesting enough to have a casual conversation with while still keeping his distance, remaining secluded.

They were a unique group: Thor, the spiritual surfer from Southern California; Wanda, the computer programmer who coded for an indie tech start-up; Sam, the commercial pilot from D.C.; and Riley, the – well, Bucky still wasn’t entirely sure who Riley was or what he did. Together, they were a hand-picked selection of well-balanced interests and talents to appeal to a nationwide audience. Bucky had to admit, on behalf of the production team, that it was almost impressive.

If only they had picked someone else to fill in for his partner.

As he switched to lunges, he acknowledged that maybe he was being hypocritical about Brock. One of his biggest issues with the show was that it built relationships off of first impressions, assuming that a person could know their soulmate based on one look, and he had clearly assumed a lot about the man based on one or two conversations. But, at the same time, he had listened to far too many true crime podcasts to know that he had every right to be suspicious of someone that projected a negative vibe. He knew nothing about the man, nothing about _any_ of them, really, except for Nat. It was healthy, and it was _good_ that he was hesitant about blindly trusting someone–

Bucky gasped, dropping one of the weights to the ground, at the feeling of hands on his arms. He spun to find Brock standing behind him, holding up his hands in defense. “Jesus fucking Christ, you scared me,” Bucky said through a sigh.

“Sorry. I was just trying to help. I can appreciate someone who gets up so early to work out, and your technique would be perfect if you straightened your shoulders.”

Almost adding more of a slant to his posture, Bucky took a step backward, clenching his jaw. “Great. Thanks.”

Turning around, he restarted his set, trying his best to ignore the trainer he never asked for hovering in his peripheral. If anything, this was further evidence as to why his initial impression was fair and just.

“Yeah, exactly. That’s perfect!” Brock commented again, and Bucky felt his muscles tense. “Just make sure you’re breathing with each rep.”

When he held his breath for the remaining counts until ten, Bucky couldn’t say for certain that it wasn’t deliberate.

Brock started saying some other critique or praise or backhanded compliment when Bucky finished his set, but he tuned it out, spotting a man dressed in black enter the confessions shack. “Let’s talk later,” Bucky told Brock, distractedly, handing him the dumbbells and half-jogging across the pool deck to catch up.

He grabbed the door from Steve, as he struggled to prop it open while juggling a messenger bag, portfolio, and Venti iced coffee. As he glanced over his shoulder, one of Steve’s eyebrows raised above his sunglasses. “Is this confessional thing open now?” Bucky asked.

Perhaps recognizing the desperation or sleep-deprivation in Bucky’s eyes, Steve shrugged with the shoulder that was supporting the bag. “It can be.”

Bucky settled onto the wicker loveseat, and Steve groaned when he dropped the bag. As he took his own seat, Steve ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to bring life to the one side that was flattened. Bucky watched as he took off his sunglasses and clipped them to his shirt; each movement was slow and almost painful, revealing blue eyes tired enough to rival his own. He smirked. “Rough night?”

Steve sighed. “Every year, the staff and crew have a little party to commemorate the first day of filming. It’s like the first day of school with everyone back together, asking, ‘How was your summer?’ Or winter, in this case. Anyway, we started playing a drinking game where we take shots for the number of the season that we’re on. It was fun when we were on five, but _eleven_?” He rubbed his temples and winced. “Considering I add another year to my age along with that number, I’m not sure I’m cut out for that lifestyle anymore.”

“So, you’re telling me that the entire staff of the reality show that I’m on, entrusting them with my safety and security, took eleven shots last night?”

“Pretty much.”

“The doctor?”

“Why? Anyone need her?” When Bucky shook his head, Steve let out a somewhat-raspy laugh. “Good. Because she blacked out around ten.”

Only slightly more concerned for his wellbeing, Bucky nodded. “Oh, great. That makes me feel so safe and secure.”

“Listen, we’re all entitled to some fun too,” Steve said, crossing his legs and unabashedly flicking his eyes up and down Bucky. “Although I get the feeling that you’re not having too much fun.”

Thinking back to the reason why he had escaped to the confessional bungalow in the first place, Bucky rolled his eyes. He then fixed them on the drink in Steve’s left hand. “Can I have a sip?”

Steve cocked an eyebrow. “I should probably say no. But if it makes you look better on camera, then I should probably say yes.”

Graciously, Bucky accepted it by taking a generous sip. He cringed at the bitterness of the black coffee but knew a quick fix of caffeine would be more than worth it when it hit his veins. When he handed it back, Bucky noticed the red dot of light below the lens of the camera. “Camera’s rolling?”

“Camera’s always rolling. You know that.”

Letting his shoulders fall, Bucky looked down at his clasped hands. “Would I get kicked off of the show for committing a murder?”

At first, Steve gave no reaction toward the question, blinking slowly and looking up toward the ceiling. “Probably,” he settled on before tilting his head to the side with the straw between his teeth. “Murder mystery season, though? I could market that.” He took a sip and passed the drink back to Bucky with a smirk. “Who are you killing?”

“If I have to pretend to be best friends with this douchebag any longer, I don’t think anyone can be considered safe.”

Steve only smirked wider. “What don’t you like about Brock?” he asked, holding out his hand for the coffee and glancing at the camera for Bucky to direct his attention.

“It’s too early to say that I dislike Brock, and that’s not necessarily correct,” Bucky said into the lens, “but he somehow ticks off all of my pet peeves.” Steve didn’t reply and, instead, gestured to the camera again, as if urging him to continue. “I like confidence, but there’s a fine line between that and arrogance. I don’t like people who are overly touchy when I barely know them, and I also hate it when people tell me what to do. That’s why I started my own practice.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, reaching into his bag for the clipboard. “Yesterday, you said that you didn’t believe in judging people off of first impressions. Is there a chance that you’re just misjudging him?"

Bucky crossed his legs the opposite direction. “Well, after having a – let’s say, _decent_ – conversation with him last night, sleeping in the same bed, and receiving training from him that I did not want _or_ need, I think I know everything I need to know about him.”

“Fair enough.” Steve leaned back, and when the clipboard slipped lower on his lap, Bucky could see one of his headshots on top of the applications that he filled out, his own handwriting mixing with Steve’s from the notes that he had taken. “Is there anyone else you’d like to get to know?”

Bucky played along with a shrug. “I mean, at some point, I’d like to have a conversation with Sam. He stepped forward for me in the beginning when no one else did.”

“What about Nat?”

“Nat’s my best friend. We were going to step forward for each other, no matter what.”

“Tell me about her.”

He shrugged again. “She’s beautiful, but anyone who only sees her as that doesn’t deserve her. She’s smart, and she’s strong, and she’ll kick your ass without hesitation.”

As he took a sip of the coffee, Steve let out a huff of a laugh through his nose. “Sounds like you’d be the perfect match.”

“Oh no,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “We’re just friends.”

“You’ve never thought of being more than friends?”

“No, she’s practically family now. We met when we were in middle school. Both awkward, geeky preteens who didn’t really fit in with anyone else. She danced ballet, and I played in the orchestra. We got really close in high school when we both faced some difficult times and stayed as close as we could throughout college. She went to Juilliard and I did my undergrad at Columbia, so distance wasn’t really an issue, but we were both incredibly busy. Then, she got her dream job right after graduation, and I went to law school and afterward I guess I got mine too. Obviously, we’re still close.”

Steve nodded along. “That’s sweet. You really care about her.”

“Of course I do.”

“But wholeheartedly platonic?”

“Correct.”

“What if I told you that she’s interested in exploring something more than platonic?”

Bucky pursed his lips, able to recognize a leading question with ease. “What if you did? I’d like to hear it from her personally.”

Defensively, Steve raised his hands. “Understandable. But hear me out: now is the perfect opportunity to give it a shot. No strings attached, no consequences.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at his persistence, giving the producer credit for remaining so determined to tell his own narrative, and rose from the couch. “I think I’m okay with not finding out.”

“Suit yourself,” Steve said, almost too amused to sound truly disappointed. He lifted the drink one more time for Bucky, who leaned down to take a sip without bothering to take the cup from Steve’s grasp.

Seeing how the cup was half-empty from them passing it back and forth, Bucky smirked. “Cream and sugar next time, Steve.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Bucky took a breath to steady himself before walking across the villa. When he saw him approaching the group at the breakfast bar, Sam smiled. “Hey,” Bucky said. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Sam glanced at Riley, appearing unimpressed even with his eyes hidden behind a pair of some famous designer’s sunglasses at his side, before replying. “Sure.”

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked, as they sat on two adjacent deck chairs by the pool.

“Not bad.” Bucky felt somewhat surprised to admit that he wasn’t completely lying. “Still settling in, I guess.”

“Yeah, me too. Never in a million years did I think I’d do something like this, but as it turns out, meeting people in the sky is harder than I thought.”

Bucky grinned – something nearly impossible to avoid when he was with Sam, as he was beginning to learn. “That’s an amazing job, though. What’s it like?”

Tilting his head a few times to each side, Sam shrugged. “Far less exciting than whatever you’re imagining. A lot of going over safety protocols, checking weather reports and flight patterns, double-checking, triple-checking. But then the traveling aspect makes it all worth it. There’s nothing better than waking up in one country and then falling asleep in another. I’ve been so fortunate to see so many corners of the world.”

“That’s pretty incredible,” Bucky agreed. “What’s the best place you’ve been?”

Sam seemed to genuinely ponder the question while he looked over at the pool, sunlight shimmering across its surface. “Japan. It’s a long flight, but in Tokyo at night, when the skyscrapers and billboards light up and the city really comes alive? Man, it’s beautiful.”

Just from hearing the fondness in his soft tone as he described it, Bucky could picture himself there. “I’d love to go some day.”

“Maybe I can take you.”

Falling easily into comfortable conversation with him, Bucky smiled the entire time that he gave him the frankly boring ins and outs of his own work and discussed what he hoped to potentially gain from the show, realizing that every time he repeated his manufactured explanation, he began to see the validity of his words.

But, in no way, under no circumstances, would he ever admit to that.

He was here for one purpose and one purpose alone: to support Nat until she found her groove and then get out as soon as possible. And there was _no one_ who could convince him otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love seeing your feedback in any way, so feel free to leave kudos and comments!
> 
> Also, you're more than welcome to chat with me on Tumblr: buckyandthejets.tumblr.com
> 
> See you tomorrow for episode 3! 🏝🏝🏝


	3. Chapter 3

**Episode 3**

After his conversation with Sam wrapped up nicely, naturally, Nat was waiting for him, calling his name off to the side on one of the swings. “Hey,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “so I’m definitely proud of you for getting out of your comfort zone and actually talking to people, but it might not be the best idea to make Riley Jones completely hate you on day two.”

If his eyes narrowing at her in confusion weren’t clear enough, Bucky asked, “What?”

She appeared just as confused. “You talking to Sam?”

“What’s wrong with me talking to Sam?”

“I mean, nothing, technically. Obviously. Aside from the fact that you asked him right in front of Riley.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, not fully following her logic. “And what’s wrong with that?”

Sighing, Nat seemed to remember that he had little-to-no knowledge of the intricacies of the show but maintained her patience. “Okay, so asking someone to talk privately in front of the person they’re coupled with is a big no. It’s essentially rule number one. Well, rule number one is probably not sleeping with your partner on the first night, so this is probably rule number two.”

Bucky kept himself from rolling his eyes. “That’s stupid.”

“I know it’s stupid, but it’s decorum. And if there’s one thing I know about you, I know that you like following rules.”

Bucky _did_ roll his eyes at that. “Sure.”

“And unless you want the rest of the country to hate you when we get out of here, I would also advise you not to get on Riley Jones’ bad side. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Got it?”

“I think so.”

Nat smiled weakly as she stood from the swing. “Good.”

“One quick question, though,” Bucky said, catching her arm before she walked away. “Who the fuck is Riley Jones?”

With something like disgust or disappointment in her eyes, she stared at him and then laughed. “Your sister is the editor-in-chief of one of the most respected fashion magazines in the country, and you don’t know who Riley Jones is?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t ask her if she knows the basic principles of the current tax code.”

Nat rolled her eyes, stepping forward and lowering her voice. “Riley Jones won last year’s season of _America’s Next Top Model_ on this network. It was the first time that they included audience participation in the vote, and he won in a landslide.” _Okay_ , he thought. _This show is sounding even more rigged_. “He got an amazing contract with one of the best modeling agencies in the U.S. and walked in Paris and Milan. He’s making huge waves in androgynous fashion and is an incredible voice for the queer community.”

“Huh,” Bucky said, looking over to where Riley laid on one of the daybeds on his side, wearing a new wrap with his hair tossed over one shoulder, appearing to be posed for an editorial cover while still looking completely natural. “So, in addition to being a terrible brother, I’m also a terrible bisexual?”

“I thought we knew that already.” Nat kissed him on the cheek before walking back to the kitchenette to sit with her clown.

Intrigued but still a little confused, Bucky watched the two of them talk. Clint said something that made her laugh, and when Nat spoke, he looked at her with an unparalleled fascination and admiration. Even after one day, the air between them was comfortable and light, warm and bubbling with those just-met flutters. Bucky, himself, could see the chemistry between them. It was cute; it was disgusting.

A shriek from multiple people interrupted the two getting to know each other, as well as Bucky watching the two getting to know each other. “I got a text!”

_Great_. Another inside joke/standard procedure of the show that Nat had to explain to him back home after cracking open a new growler of pumpkin ale, returning to the living room where he continued watching the show, head in his hands. It was a rite of passage to be the one to scream the four words as loud as possible and a call to arms for the whole group to assemble.

Begrudgingly, Bucky joined the others, where they crowded around Val who was waving around her phone. “Islanders,” she read out loud. “Today, you will be competing in your first challenge. Val, Bucky, Nat, Thor, and Riley will be on the red team. Carol, Brock, Clint, Wanda, and Sam will be on the blue team. Each round, teams will alternate, reading a detail that matches exactly one person on the opposing team and coming to a consensus to guess that Islander. If the team guesses correctly, they get a point. At the end, the team with the most points wins the game. #Know-And-Tell #Let-The-Games-Begin!”

_[A longwinded explanation for a relatively simple game that will likely be as riveting as that text message and severely lacking in production, since the crew is still nursing their hangovers. Another lukewarm coffee to the recording booth, stat!]_

They were moved to a separate area of the villa that was reserved for these types of challenges: a wooden deck that overlooked the postcard-perfect, green rolling hills and valleys, framed by the golden sunlight. At the very least, Bucky found some comfort from this hellscape in standing beside Nat in an arc, facing the other five who were mirrored in their own line. She held a red envelope shaped like a heart, reading the typed print on the back, after being instructed by a producer to start. “This Islander has never had a boyfriend.”

“Well, it’s not Sam,” Riley said, as their team pulled themselves into a huddle, dropping their voices.

“Yeah, we had the exes chat too,” Nat added. “It’s not Clint.”

Val nodded. “It’s not Carol either.”

The three turned to Thor and Bucky who both shrugged. “We didn’t have that conversation,” Thor said.

“Neither did we,” Bucky admitted, ignoring Nat’s disappointed silence, “but I could see it being Brock.”

He couldn’t exactly see him dating _anyone_ , for that matter.

“50-50 shot,” Val said while the others consented as well, nodding in lighthearted agreement.

“Okay,” Nat said, as they straightened their line. “We’re going to guess Brock.”

The blue team stood still for a moment before Brock shook his head. Stepping forward, Wanda gave a shy wave. “It’s me. I’ve had a few girlfriends and been a couple first dates with guys, but I’ve never had an official boyfriend.”

Clint was handed the next envelope. “This Islander’s longest relationship lasted seven months.”

After the other team deliberated, they decided on: “Riley, because you travel so much.”

Riley shook his head, and Val stepped forward. “I travel a lot too, and that’s exactly why my longest relationship lasted seven months.”

_[So that means that both teams start off with no points, and we still have eight more people to get through. Dear God, help us all…]_

In the next two rounds, they found out that Carol was engaged but broke it off after finding out her fiancé had been cheating on her, and Riley had only been in two relationships, which, according to him, was fine, because, “Third time’s the charm, right y’all?”

Bucky’s team had guessed correctly, thanks to Val’s insight on Carol’s past relationships, and the blue team guessed incorrectly, assuming that a lawyer wouldn’t have the time for many relationships. They weren’t far off, Bucky hated to admit, but that wasn’t his fact. He wondered what the producers would cherry-pick from his questionnaires to be his ‘scandalous’ detail before hearing Sam say, “This Islander got caught having sex in a public place.”

_Oh_ , Bucky realized, _there was that_.

As he explained to the group after the blue team had guessed wrong again, they were in a supposedly-private study room in the library, after-hours during his undergrad years, when a friend had walked in. It had been an inside joke every time they were on the fifth floor until they walked off the stage at graduation. But, _yes_ , technically, Bucky had gotten caught having sex in a public place.

Bucky laughed, almost surprised at how the air between them was as easy and light as the island breeze, but that breeze instantly stilled at the next prompt, which Bucky had the absolute _luxury_ of reading, “This Islander has cheated on all of their partners.”

The smiles and giggles were replaced with stiff expressions and awkward throat-clears; Carol looked particularly upset, crossing her arms as she glared at her team. With fear in their eyes, Sam and Clint appeared to wish that they could defend themselves, but Riley and Nat did it for them.

“There’s no way it’s Sam,” Riley said, a sternness to his voice that they had yet to hear.

Nat nodded, adding, “It’s not Clint either.”

Which left Brock, who simply rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand and shrugged. “It was always a they-cheated-first kinda situation, and in the end, the breakup was always mutual.”

It wasn’t a good response, but the red team guessed correctly, meaning that they were down to the final four – or two, really, since the last two would be revealed through the process of elimination.

[ _Truly a design flaw, but can you really blame producers still buzzed from eleven shots?_ ]

“This Islander,” Thor read, voice booming across the pastures in the distance, “has slept with someone while at work.”

Riley and Nat looked between each other, knowing that it had to be one of their partners, and laughed. “I hope it’s not Sam,” Nat said, and Riley nodded.

“Me too! He better not be doing that while flying a plane.”

The rest of the red team allowed them to take the lead with Nat offering, “For Clint, I could see it happening backstage during a rehearsal.”

Riley agreed, confirming her guess, and then gasped when Sam stepped forward. “ _While flying a plane_?!” Riley asked, nearing a screech.

Sam shook his head with a chuckle. “No, no. It was during my job in college when I worked for the campus bookstore, back in a stockroom. I would never sleep with someone while working my current job.”

The slight reassurance in airline pilots helped to ease Riley’s fears and also lighten the atmosphere enough for Carol to read, “This Islander has accidentally sent a nude to the wrong person.”

Bucky snorted. Perhaps, the involuntary reaction had been a clear tell for the other team, seeing all other nine pairs of eyes turn to him, but he simply couldn’t hold it in, remembering the day clearly. It was a normal work day, probably a Tuesday or Wednesday, and while a client signed their name beside each “X” on the paperwork, he checked his phone beneath his desk to see a text from Nat, revealing far more than he had ever hoped to see of her in a mirror selfie.

The break in his poker face gave the blue team a point, but the red team had already won with their two correct guesses, allowing them to learn the remaining two facts about Thor and Clint.

Wanda was given a heart to read from, “This Islander claims to have slept with over 50 people.”

The others either gasped or laughed or gave some kind of combination of the two, while Thor stood proudly. “I am very lucky to have a career where I can meet many beautiful, wonderful people.”

The others could not argue with that.

Last, Riley received the final heart and raised his hand to his mouth when he read it to himself, eyes widening before sharing it with everyone else. “This Islander modeled for a sex toy company!”

Bucky turned his attention to Nat who looked at Clint with her eyes trapped in a mix of horror and intrigue. With his shoulders high up next to his ears, Clint held up his hands defensively. “Listen, they needed someone flexible and acrobatic to show off a sex swing and pose with ribbons. Nothing crazy.”

Nat rolled her eyes but tucked into his side as they all walked back to the villa, listening to Clint rant and reassure her that, “No worries,” “It was all normal kinky shit,” and “The pictures are very tasteful and still on the website if you’re ever curious but no pressure.”

Bucky knew for a fact that he would never be curious enough to warrant those images and also knew that he had no interest in talking with Brock either when he appeared at his side.

“Hey,” Brock said, and Bucky didn’t respond. “That was pretty wild, huh?”

“Sure.”

“And I know things were said – about me – and, yeah, I guess they’re true. But it’s really nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t do that again.” Bucky nodded along but only really listened to his next words. “And it’s not like we’ll ever get to that point, right? Obviously, I’m not your type, and you’re not mine either. It’s not like we’ll ever have a relationship. But, I mean, if you’re just here to, you know-”

Bucky interrupted him then, shaking his head. “No, you got it right the first time. We’re never getting to the point where I let you cheat on me, because we’re never getting past _this_ stage.”

Furious, he walked the rest of the way back to the villa alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have Episode 3! 
> 
> We had our first challenge, we learned a little (or far too much) about all the Islanders, and to no one's surprise, Brock was an asshole. (Who would've guessed!)
> 
> Thanks again for the all the comments and kudos; they truly make my day :) 
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at buckyandthejets.tumblr.com
> 
> 🎧- "Let the Games Begin" - Anarbor (In honor of our first of many challenges)


	4. Chapter 4

**Episode 4**

For the rest of the night, Bucky fumed, flaring, his frayed ends lit like a sparkler. His entire body tensed when he laid down in the bed, curled on his side, as far from Brock as possible. Unable to sleep comfortably anyway, he didn’t even mind when Brock pulled his side of the sheets from him.

_He was an asshole_ , Bucky told the ceiling. _A douchebag. No, something much stronger than that:_

“Brock’s a cunt.”

Startled to find someone already in the bungalow, Steve nearly dropped the Starbucks order that he had balanced on one of their cardboard carrying trays, precariously holding his phone and portfolio in his left hand, with his trusty messenger bag over his shoulder. “ _Christ_ ,” he said, groaning as he sat down beside the camera.

Already sitting, Bucky had beaten him there, awake early again, and desperate to talk to someone who seemed to vaguely understand.

That someone in particular still had his sunglasses on and appeared to have combed his hair with his fingers that morning, forfeiting shaving for a nice, faint dusting of five o’clock shadow across his jaw. As if remembering what Bucky had said, Steve shook his head. “I love a hard ‘C’ at seven in the morning.”

Perhaps it was too early, both in the time of the day and the general time frame that they had known each other, but Bucky was feeling pissed off and bold and that was the exact logical fallacy he needed to prompt him to say, “Oh, I bet you do.”

Reinforcing that it was definitely too early in at least one capacity, Steve’s eyebrows rose above the frames of his sunglasses, as if processing Bucky’s comment in disbelief. “No,” he eventually said, shaking his head. “No, absolutely not. You cannot say shit like that to me and still expect me to give you this.”

He held out the Tall, noticeably-lighter coffee, as if it was watered down by someone who doesn’t normally leave room, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel his grin tinged with slight hesitation. “That was for me?” Steve didn’t reply, most likely knowing that the answer rang out obvious in the air in the gesture itself. As he accepted the drink, Bucky asked, “Are you really allowed to do this?”

“Are you really gonna complain?”

Answering the question with his own gesture, Bucky took a sip. He found the coffee to be a bit overpowered by the milk and the bitterness entirely masked by a sugar packet or two too much, but he gave the producer credit for trying.

The producer in question winced and rubbed his temple while reminding himself of his notes on the clipboard – the expression of working through a headache that Bucky, himself, had experienced many times. “Rough night? I thought the party was two nights ago?”

“Oh, it was. I’m just horrible with jet lag. It’ll take me at least a full week before I’m used to falling asleep six hours earlier than I’m used to.”

“East coast,” Bucky pointed out, recognizing his own time zone difference. “Where are you from?”

“I live in L.A., but I grew up in Brooklyn. For a few weeks before the season starts, I visit my Ma back home – one, to keep my good son points, and two, to lessen the time difference to better acclimate myself, which sounds stupid, but listen, it works.”

Bucky leaned back against the couch, settling in comfortably and knowing that Steve had studied his profile well enough to know where he was from. “Small world.”

Confirming just that, Steve gave him a hint of a smile. “Getting smaller every day.”

“So, is the jet lag what convinced you to give me the worst possible advice you could offer?” Bucky asked with no intended malice to his tone but the very words conveying a bitter accusation.

In response to the harshness, Steve bared his palms. “Different people get different levels of clingy during this first week. If I had known that Riley would get that defensive, I would’ve told you to keep it more low-key with Sam.” Steve paused, as if waiting for an objection, but Bucky let him continue. “I love my coworkers, okay? We make an amazing team, and without them, I wouldn’t have an Emmy to my name. But, some of the other producers get off on playing a dirty game. Spreading gossip and misleading comments and flat-out lies, just to start shit and force content.”

“Hm.” Bucky nodded and took a sip of his coffee, thinking about everything that Steve had said, admitting behind-the-scenes secrets to a stranger. “Great people we have looking over us. Very reassuring.”

“Listen,” Steve said, scrubbing a hand over his face after shoving his sunglasses to the top of his head, and when he leaned back in his chair, setting his line of sight back on Bucky, a fiery glare of honesty shone in his pale blue eyes. “In case you haven’t realized it yet, we aren’t good people. We place bets on who’s going to fuck around on the first night and who’s going to have a nervous breakdown. Who’s going to start the first fight and who’s going to get their heart broken. We have everyone categorized by their headshots, hanging on a whiteboard in the control room, based on the ones who are here to get laid, the ones here to get famous, the ones here to get the money, and the ones stupid enough to believe in true love coming from a reality TV show.”

He paused, and Bucky watched the way his chest rose and fell, as he caught his breath and collected his thoughts. Still reeling from the momentum, Steve leaned forward, as if preparing another point to add to his rant. Cocking an eyebrow, Bucky challenged him to do so.

“We all predict the winning couple and try everything in our power to make it happen, because if we’re right, we get a cash bonus. We don’t care about your feelings; we care about keeping our viewers entertained. We care about producing enough dramatic moments to keep your names trending on Twitter and to ensure our Emmy contention. You’re all essentially just a cog in the machine.”

The words – the truth – hung heavily in the air. The atmosphere between them was buzzing but not tense, humid and thick with energy. Steve seemed stressed, earnest and almost angry, like these concerns had been weighing on his chest for a while. Bucky listened, appreciative and mildly curious, and waited for him to continue, as the condensation from his cup dripped down to his wrist. When he didn’t, Bucky asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

As if he had only then realized that he had spoken out loud, Steve ducked his head in a silent laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling in an immediate shift in mood – sunlight peeking out from behind dark storm clouds. “You’re the only one I can tell,” he admitted quietly.

Out of everything that he had poured out, that was the first to surprise Bucky, sending a flash of warmth to his cheeks and compelling him to change the topic. “So where do I fall into those categories?”

“Oh, no.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “That’s a conversation for another day.”

Smirking, Bucky gestured to his coffee with his own. “Another coffee date?”

Steve didn’t immediately respond, looking down at his clipboard. “Don’t get used to this.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

For the rest of the day, Bucky found himself distracted, distant. He clung to the edges of the villa, internally repeating what Steve had told him. As soon as Steve had started talking, Bucky had completely forgotten about Brock, and those annoyances were replaced with a disappointment in the production staff. He watched how the other producers interacted with the contestants: their conversations were brief and formal, either instructions or basic reminders.

Lengthy conversations in which one party reveals dark, intimate details about their work were, apparently, not the norm. (He didn’t notice a producer buy a contestant coffee either.)

He couldn’t keep his mind from returning to thoughts about Steve. _Steve_. The producer that he had only known for three days who had spoken with such candid honesty that it was as if they had known each other for years. Since their very first interaction in that ridiculous interview, conversation came naturally to them, no awkward pauses, no forced answers. If they subtly flirted, lightly teasing each other, it was reciprocated, and it just felt _right_. It was comfortable in a way that it probably shouldn’t have been – for the sake of both of their contracts.

The conversation that morning had been the same but also completely different. Steve had been so sincere that it was almost shocking. Having done his research before boarding his flight, the not-so-genuine actions of his fellow producers were not too much of a surprise for Bucky to hear, knowing damn well that the broad legalese gave them every right to execute their various manipulation tactics. But hearing that admission _from_ a producer?

That left Bucky feeling clueless.

Steve had demonstrated a level of trust between them that Bucky frankly felt he had yet to earn. Unless he was playing a game of incredibly-complex, meta, reverse-reverse psychology to gain his respect, then Steve must have truly trusted him in that manner, which was simply beyond belief. But he wanted to believe it. He wanted to trust him that way and he wanted Steve to trust him that way, because he enjoyed their morning conversations. He enjoyed talking to Steve, because he liked Steve.

_He liked Steve?_

Could that be possible? He knew that it definitely wasn’t allowed, prohibited in their favorite _Non-Fraternization Clause_ that stated quite explicitly: “DON’T FUCKING DO THIS.” But was it also completely _insane_? Because Bucky was starting to count his marbles, desperately searching for a way to rationalize these vague feelings that stirred in the pit of his stomach.

While the other Islanders sat together, laughing and sharing stories and jumping into the pool, Bucky sat alone, lost in a haze of questions. No one wondered where he was; no one asked.

Except, of course, for Nat, who joined him as the sun began to set – the orange-red hues painted across the horizon only rivalled by the color of her hair in his peripheral vision. As she took her seat beside him, uninvited but still welcome, Nat quirked an all-knowing eyebrow. “What’s on your mind?” When he shrugged, she narrowed her eyes, calling his bluff. “Would you prefer that I ask _who_ is on your mind?”

Doubling down, he shrugged again. “Nothing and no one.”

She shook her head and moved closer with a sigh. “For fuck’s sake, Bucky, your one job here is to find someone that you like and admit that you like them, and out of everyone here, I’m frankly offended if you don’t think you can trust me enough to discuss this.”

“Nat,” Bucky interjected, interrupting, as soon as he heard the beginnings of a rant, all-too-familiar with the edge of her tone. Taking a deep breath, he considered the best way to phrase the situation in a way that Nat would want to hear without violating his core beliefs. “Okay, so, maybe, hypothetically-speaking, there might be someone that I am potentially interested in. I’m not saying that I like them or I dislike them. They are simply of – _interest_ , to me.” 

“Bucky!” She hit his arm, glancing at the pool and beaming with a smile far too wide that only further demonstrated her assumptions. Lowering her voice, she asked, “Who is it?”

He dropped his gaze down to his hands. “That’s the problem.”

“No, there’s no such thing. It’s so early that you can have literally anyone you want. _Everyone_ here is an option.”

Quietly, looking toward the sunset, he said, “Not everyone.”

Bucky could feel her eyes bore into the side of his face, as she processed his statement, and one by one, the pieces fell into place. She shifted even closer so that their knees brushed together, reminding him of humid summers spent in a hideout in the woods of Nat’s grandparent’s home, and whispered, “One of the crew? A producer.” He didn’t even have to nod before she concluded, “The blond one that everyone thinks is hot?”

“Steve,” he corrected before he even realized that the name had formed in his mouth.

“Oh my god, you actually know his name.” Nat widened her eyes, as if only then realizing the full weight of the situation. Almost as a supportive gesture, she rested her hand on top of his, drawing his attention back to her. “Tell me about him.”

_Oh_ , he had already said far too much. Pointing to the mics that hung around their necks, he shook his head.

She nodded, and they both looked toward the pool, where a majority of the group was splashing in the water. All of their mics were laying scattered on the pool deck, as instructed to do in order to not damage the equipment or themselves.

Bucky and Nat turned back to each other, wearing matching smirks.

“He’s smart,” Bucky said, still speaking in hushed tones after taking off their mics and discarding them, throwing them a few feet away. “Intelligent. Ambitious and passionate about his work. Dark sense of humor.”

“So he’s perfect for you?” Nat summarized bluntly.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I hardly know him.”

“Sounds like you do.”

Despite the truth in that sentiment, they had yet to address the problem with – what Bucky would vehemently refuse to call – his crush. “Just because I know him better than anyone else here doesn’t make him any less off-limits. Even if he was interested in me too, we could never do anything about it. I could get kicked off the show, and he could lose his job.”

Although he would be thrilled for the first half of those repercussions, Bucky knew that he would never be able to forgive himself for indirectly causing such an awful detriment to someone’s life.

Nat gave him a slow, resolute nod, finally obtaining the last piece of the puzzle. Pursing her lips and lightly scratching her nails across the back of his hand, she appeared to be deciding the best course of action for him. “Well,” she said after eventually coming to some sort of conclusion. “There’s nothing preventing you from being friends, is there? I’d say to just be friendly, carry on with the competition, and at the end of it, maybe you two can get in contact with each other.”

With a smile, Bucky nodded. It was as good of a plan as he could think of, essentially the track that they were already charting, and after gaining his approval, Nat pulled him into a hug.

They celebrated Bucky’s vague, potential, hypothetical interest in romance by jumping into the pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, nothing better than confessing your guilt to a complete stranger and making them question all of their values and opinions. (Way to go, Steve!)
> 
> To everyone who has been commenting/leaving kudos/sharing this story with their friends, y'all are top-notch, and I truly cannot thank you enough!! 
> 
> 🎧CUCO - "Lover is a Day" (I'm really excited about this accompanying soundtrack today. I stumbled onto this artist/song on a whim and just knew that it had to have an association with this story. I think the almost vaporwave-esque, Miami summer nights, neon lights vibe perfectly captures the haze of Bucky's mind on this afternoon, as he's swimming through all these thoughts and questions about how he feels about Steve.)
> 
> Alright! Make sure you tune in tomorrow for Episode 5...it's about to get real. 😎


	5. Chapter 5

**Episode 5**

As he had somehow grown accustomed to, Bucky woke up before anyone else, but on this particular morning, he woke up to find a smile on his face. Definitely not because of Brock, who was snoring beside him. And not because of Nat either, who had her arms wrapped around Clint, acting as the big spoon and giving Bucky the ideas for multiple comments that he would have to make later. No, there was a spring in his step, because his hair had the perfect amount of curl and bounce and he looked fantastic in a simple, black swimsuit – all normal things to take into consideration when building a meaningful friendship. _So friendly_.

Bucky was the first to enter the bungalow, which was fine. He assumed that he was early when he saw that the sun had still not risen, which was also fine, considering that they had started convening for these discussions at an ungodly hour when they both probably should have been sleeping. And Bucky was totally fine with waiting for Steve.

It was fine when Steve was fifteen minutes ‘late,’ accounting for the time that he might have used for the usual coffee run.

It was fine when Steve was thirty minutes ‘late’; _maybe there was traffic_ , or hell, _maybe he had just slept in to help with the jetlag_.

It was no longer fine when an hour had passed and Val and Carol poked their heads in to borrow the room and brag to the camera about how happy they were to be coupled up together. They apologized for interrupting, but Bucky excused himself, realizing that someone in the control room had spent the past hour watching him stare idly around the room, saying absolutely nothing. ( _A bit Blair Witch in nature_.)

_Shit_ , he thought, as he took a seat by himself in a lounge chair by the pool. Waiting over an _hour_ for the man certainly helped to convey the image of a contestant hopelessly pining over a producer. Which, of course, he wasn’t. At best, he’d look like someone with a little crush; at worst, he’d look like a stalker. Which, of course, he was neither. He was simply a person who had met someone who he shared a lot of similar viewpoints with and genuinely enjoyed talking to and wanted to get to know better on a wholeheartedly platonic level.

Obviously.

But as he kept an eye on the bungalow, losing track of time as he watched Val and Carol leave, a few others trickle in and out, and Steve never appear, he could no longer ignore the worries that flooded his mind. _Don’t get used to this_ , Steve had said. He knew that buying a contestant a gift, no matter how small or insignificant, had to be in violation of his contract, but he did it anyway. He had told him numerous, unfiltered secrets about the show. All of this had occurred blatantly in front of cameras, recording multiple angles, with microphones picking up every single word. One of his coworkers _had_ to have known, witnessed everything, and reported it back to a manager or director or someone with the power and authority to fuck up Steve’s career.

At best, they were punishing him by sequestering him from the rest of the contestants, from Bucky, giving him some other production job; at worst, he could have been fired. Steve was a person who loved his work and took pride in building trust and friendship with the contestants, and Bucky was a person who potentially destroyed all chances of that friendship ever forming.

“What’s wrong?” Nat asked, snapping him out of the thoughts that were starting to swelter around his head, making him sweat just as much as the bright sun beating down on both of them.

She sat at the end of the chair, and he shook his head, purposefully avoiding a verbal answer to her question and looking toward the bungalow that still remained unoccupied.

Her eyebrows raised enough to reflect her concern without drawing attention to her expression. Leaning closer, she whispered, “What happened?”

Paranoid, Bucky covered his mic with his hand, hoping to muffle some of the sound. “Didn’t show up today.”

“At all?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Could be sick,” Nat offered, hopeful and following Bucky’s lead by resting her hand against her chest.

_Could be fired_ , Bucky couldn’t help but think. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Why are you so worried?” She gently laid her other hand against his leg, calling attention to the stress that he was holding as tension throughout his entire body.

Bucky remembered everything that he had neglected to tell her. She didn’t know about the coffee or the lengths of the conversations or what Steve had told him about the production staff taking advantage of the contestants. Not wanting to complicate the matter any further from Steve’s perspective, Bucky shrugged, choosing to not tell her anything more but also not telling a lie. “I just hope that he’s okay.”

“Do you think he saw our conversation from yesterday?”

Bucky felt his heart plummet. He hadn’t even considered that possibility, and the thought of Steve listening to Bucky gush about him to Nat made his stomach ache. If one of the other producers hadn’t seen Bucky admit his _interest_ in Steve, Steve himself certainly had.

Perhaps seeing the worry appear on Bucky’s face in the way that his eyes widened or how he bit his lip, Nat moved closer. “It’ll be okay.”

“He probably thinks I’m obsessed with him now, so yeah, totally okay, Nat.”

“Bucky,” she said, more sternly. “Relax.”

Before either of them could say something else, a chorus of shrieks erupted from the kitchenette. “Guys, I got a text!”

Bucky sighed, and Nat clapped a hand on his shoulder, as she rose from the chair. “At least this will help take your mind off of it.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky followed her to the breakfast bar where the rest of the group had crowded around Wanda, while she read out, “Islanders, gather by the fire pit for a game of Truth or Dare. #Spill-Some-Tea #Make-Some-Mistakes!”

[ _Ah, Truth or Dare – the timeless party game that’ll be sure to guarantee countless classic and regrettable moments for generations to come. Also, a telltale sign that our producers are running out of challenge ideas. On Day 5…_ ]

With the ten of them sitting in a semicircle around the unlit fire pit and two clear vases filled with paper prompts set before them, Sam was the first to receive a text. “Sam,” he read aloud, “please choose truth or dare.” He looked around the group for immediate reactions. “I gotta go with dare, right? Start off strong?”

Beside him, Riley shifted his shawl – a loud and busy satin fabric with at least five different, multicolored patterns, ranging from floral to animal prints – higher onto his shoulders and nodded. “Go for it, babe.”

Sam reached into one of the jars and pulled out a heart-shaped piece of a paper. He smirked down at it before sharing it with the rest of the group. “Kiss the Islander you find the most attractive."

Without even having to consider all of his options, Sam turned to Riley, who raised a hand to his cheek, acting surprised that Sam was leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. The other Islanders cheered or applauded or whistled, and when they pulled apart, Riley clarified for the rest of the group, “That wasn’t our first kiss, by the way.”

Assuming that was another aspect of the Love Island decorum that he didn’t understand, Bucky leaned back in his seat, stealing a glance toward the bungalow that was still unoccupied.

Carol received the next text and chose from the _Truth_ jar: “To even things out, right?”

She sighed after reading the paper heart and tossed it to the side. “Well, I think we all know why my last relationship ended.”

Everyone already seemed to have been looking in Brock’s direction when his phone buzzed. Also choosing _Truth_ , he read from the paper, “How happy are you to be in your current coupling?”

The attention turned to Bucky, who was just as interested as the rest of the Islanders to see how Brock would respond.

Brock caught his eye before responding. “I think it’s safe to say that we’re not meant for each other.”

Bucky nodded in agreement before he even realized that he was moving. Reaching across Brock and practically ignoring his presence, Nat loosely grasped Bucky’s hand to reassure him. “Don’t worry, after they start introducing new people, you’ll find the person that you’re _meant_ to be with.”

“Yeah,” Val agreed. “They’ll have to be introducing the first new Islander soon.”

To make up for the sudden depressing change in dynamic, the next _Dare_ certainly added a bit more life to the party, prompting Wanda to kiss the person on her left for ten seconds, which happened to be Nat. Slightly more entertained by watching the look on Clint’s face waver between horror and excitement, Bucky laughed.

After the group had counted down ten, like they were announcing the new year, and he received the next text, Clint still appeared conflicted about how to react to seeing his partner kiss someone else, but he eagerly reached for the _Dare_ vase. “Man, what the hell?” he said, looking down at the paper. “All you guys got to make out with each other, and I’m supposed to jump head-first into the pool?” He shrugged off his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and took off his mic. “I mean, I’ll do it, but that shit’s unfair.”

Clint returned from his dive, taking his revenge by shaking his head to splash them, and from there, the game divulged into madness. On the next _Dare_ , Thor licked honey off of Sam’s chest, followed by Val sucking Carol’s fingers, and Riley shared a reluctant three-way kiss with Brock and Clint. It was enough of outrageous excitement to distract Bucky from his anxieties, and he almost felt excited to receive the next text, ready to join the game.

At first glance, the text appeared much longer than the others’, and Bucky narrowed his eyes at his phone, reading the words in disbelief. Noticing his hesitation, the rest of the Islanders stared at him as their laughter died off and they waited to see whether he would choose _Truth_ or _Dare_.

Instead, he read out the full text that he had received: “Bucky, please prepare to leave the Island for your first date with Steve. #Legal-Tease #Producer-Seducer”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, we love a good reality TV cliffhanger 😅
> 
> Thanks again for all the feedback! Your comments/kudos are very much appreciated!
> 
> 🎧 "Here Comes the Winner" - Dance Gavin Dance (No spoilers, but I think this slightly heavier-than-normal song would be the perfect track to play in the background during this next Islander's introduction. And it's actually about reality TV, so that's extra perfect!)
> 
> Make sure to tune in tomorrow for a fun one 🏝


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up on Love Island...easily one of my favorite episodes of the entire story, and I couldn't be more excited to share it with you.

**Episode 6**

“This is a joke, right?” Bucky repeated for at least the fifth time, looking back at Nat through their reflections in the vanity mirror, while she brushed out the loose waves in his hair. “It’s a weird coincidence, right? It can’t actually be him.”

“What if it is?” she said again, mumbling around the hair tie in her mouth before tousling his hair one last time. “Up or down?”

Looking into the glass, with the word _love_ written along one edge in hot pink, Bucky thought back to the last time he had been on a date. Three – maybe four – months before, he had met one of Nat’s trainers at a speakeasy-styled bar. The live band set a nice atmosphere to share stories over drinks, frankly ridiculously-overpriced signature cocktails. She was lovely, smart, kind, and bubbly, but both of them were a bit too pragmatic, knowing that they weren’t each other’s perfect match after their first Negroni each. He’d worn his hair tied back, so, “Down?”

Nat nodded and snapped the elastic band against her wrist. Turning to face his portion of the closet, she asked, “What were you thinking of wearing?”

“Um.”

She spared only a quick glance back at him before immediately recognizing the vacant glaze in his eyes as an indication that he hadn’t given his wardrobe a thought at all. Her hand had already rested on a dress shirt with a bit of silver detailing around the collar, and she handed the hanger to him with a small smile. “You always look nice in black. Leave one more button undone than normal, and dress it down with the dark-wash jeans. Black oxfords.”

Bucky swallowed back the nerves that had reformed as the butterflies in his stomach, as he listened. “No socks?”

“Never.” She kissed his cheek, but before leaving him alone with his thoughts to finish getting dressed, she said, “Have fun, Bucky.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

_Once more, for good measure,_ as soon as Bucky caught a glimpse of the table set before him and the man already seated, he asked, “Is this a joke?”

Sitting across from an empty chair, not beside the camera in the bungalow, not wearing sunglasses to hide his jetlag-tired eyes, not dressed head-to-toe in black, not _fired_ , was Steve. _Steve_ , the producer who joked about his boring job and shared his coffee with him and confided in him all of the dirty secrets about his own job that made him feel guilty. Steve waved at him, beckoning him over with a welcoming grin. “A joke?” he asked. “Do you want it to be?”

Bucky shook his head as he took his seat. Under the full glow of the production lights, backlit by a wall of candles, Steve beamed at him, radiating a golden light himself, looking like he was simultaneously in a dream and living a dream. Bucky was still trying to figure out whether or not this entire situation _was_ a dream. “So, what? Are you a contestant now?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, eyebrows raising, a bit exasperated, as if he was still trying to convince himself too. “Just like everyone else.”

Hesitant to believe that, Bucky asked, “So you met the same eligibility requirements?”

“Yes.”

“Filled out the same application?”

“Yup.”

“Interviews.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Same contract?”

“Almost. Pretty similar. A few clauses added here and there to prevent me from taking advantage of my knowledge as a producer, like telling you everyone’s personal information. Stuff like that.”

“Huh.” Bucky couldn’t imagine how their lawyers put that into writing; well, he could, actually, assuming it entailed a lot of ambiguity that awarded the staff seemingly-limitless immunity in the event of any misunderstandings. “I’d love to read that fine print.”

“Of course you would,” Steve said, matter-of-factly, his voice teasing but not malicious. “Listen, I was kind of thrown into this pretty suddenly today, and I was really hoping to have a nice conversation with a good drink and good company. So as long as you’re okay with this, then I’m down. I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Knowing that he had absolutely no say in this matter, Bucky shrugged, giving the practically-scripted answer of, “Sure.”

Still, Steve smiled shyly, like he genuinely appreciated his response, and gestured to the glasses between them. “Mind if I pop the champagne?”

“Go for it.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve said to himself, as he peeled the foil from the top of the bottle. “I’ve never been so excited to open a bottle of champagne before. I’m not normally the one who does this.”

“How does it feel to be on this side of the camera?”

“It’s gonna take a while to get comfortable with. I’m used to being on the side of the camera, getting to interact with everyone but never getting this close. It’ll be – odd, I guess, to watch this back.”

Bucky held in an ironic, dry laugh. “That makes two of us.”

With a sudden, piercing _pop_ , Steve uncorked the champagne, while Bucky flinched. After pouring both of the glasses evenly, watching the bubbles fizz to the top, Steve handed him a glass. “To your first date on the island,” Steve suggested confidently before immediately adding, dropping his gaze, “And mine, too, I guess.”

As they clinked their (plastic) glasses together, Bucky could see the pink flush of warmth across Steve’s cheeks before he even took a sip. Steve must have picked up on Bucky’s sigh as he set his glass down, asking, “How are you feeling?”

Bucky shook his head, still simply trying to comprehend the scene laid out before him. “Unreal. This is all just a bit surreal, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely. I feel the same way; I can’t believe this is actually happening right now.”

“God,” Bucky said with a laugh, pushing a strand of hair out his face. “I was so worried this morning.”

Pausing, with his glass half-raised to his face, Steve almost appeared concerned. “Because I wasn’t there?”

Bucky looked down at the linen tablecloth, feeling blush lightly rise in his own face. “I thought you got in trouble after the producers saw us in the beach hut or heard Nat and I’s conversation yesterday or maybe you did.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “What conversation?”

Holding his tongue, Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and avoided the question by taking a sip of champagne. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, I absolutely will.” Steve chuckled but let it go, choosing not to press the issue any further.

After a few comfortable moments of silence, Bucky took the initiative to ask the next question: “What are you doing here?”

“On a date with you,” Steve said plainly, leaning back in his chair.

Bucky slightly cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do, and I know this sounds like a convenient excuse, but it’s actually been a joke for years that since I’m the only person in the main crew who isn’t married or in a serious relationship, I should go on the show. I never thought the EP’s would let it happen, but here I am. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity, right? Chat with some pretty people, maybe meet my soulmate - endless possibilities, really.”

Listening with light amusement, Bucky sipped his champagne. “So, why did you pick me?”

Steve shrugged as he took a sip of his own. “I think we have a good rapport.”

“Is that what we have?”

“Sure. Don’t you think? It could have just been me, but I really enjoyed those first few conversations with you. I looked forward to talking to you more than anyone else on the season – maybe even out of all the seasons that I’ve worked on.”

“Really?”

Steve nodded with a chuckle. “I never knew what to expect with you. Everyone else talks about the drama they’re in or the gossip they’ve heard or who they’re crushing on, but _you_? No, you criticize the show relentlessly, threaten to commit murder, and make me feel ashamed of my job.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows as if to ask, _And?_

Steve smiled and shook his head as if he expected nothing else. “I could tell that no one here really got you, and you were also the only one without a solid match so far.”

“So you picked me so that you could ensure your spot on the show?”

A playful glint appeared in Steve’s eyes, and he had no trouble crafting an equally-playful response. “Well, how else am I supposed to get to the finale? First, it starts with securing that spot by charming you on this date, hopefully going on a few more, and then using my natural charisma and good looks to charm America into giving me the 50k.”

Feigning a naïve pout, Bucky played along. “Manipulating me the entire time and taking advantage of me in the finale to con me out of my half of the prize?”

Steve shook his head and sighed, as if truly apologetic, before giving him a pitiful half-smile. “Naturally, dear. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I guess I’ll just have to enjoy this, then, ‘til we get there.”

“See,” Steve said, serious again, relaxing back in his chair, “this is why I picked you.”

“Yeah? Does that make me your usual type?”

“Something like it.”

“What is it then?”

Not giving in so easily, Steve smirked. “Guess.”

_Really?_ Bucky asked silently with a cocked eyebrow before straightening his back and playing along anyway. “I bet you like a bad boy.”

“Ah. Of course,” Steve humored him, all serious, with the sarcastic smile evident in the back of his throat in a hollow tone. “That’s why I went for the old person attorney.”

While Bucky rolled his eyes, Steve swallowed his own laughter with a sip of champagne, corners of his eyes crinkling right over the rim of the glass. Reaching for his own glass, Bucky conceded the guessing game. “Just tell me.”

“Alright,” Steve agreed and took another sip, as if to compose himself or prepare an answer. He leaned forward, a bit eager, like he had a great story to tell. “If we were talking purely appearances, visual and physical, I’ll admit that there’s a special place in my heart for brunettes.

Bucky glossed over the convenient response. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. With blue eyes?” Steve gave a dreamy, dramatic sigh, but before Bucky could call him out for simply describing him, Steve narrowed his eyes, squinting over the flames of the candles and playing into the joke. “I think. Green? Grey? Whatever yours are, they’re my favorite.”

“Funny,” Bucky said as a deadpan reply.

“Obviously, I’m joking about the eye color thing, but dark hair is absolutely my weakness. Gets me every time. The thing that _really_ gets me, though?” Bucky allowed him to fill the rhetorical silence, and Steve admitted simply, “Legs.”

_Huh_ ; Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect from his response, but that wasn’t entirely it. Calling his bluff, Bucky said, as if stating a well-known fact, “Riley has the best legs here.”

Motionless, Steve maintained their eye contact. “Riley’s not sitting across from me right now.”

Bucky hoped his grin didn’t appear too satisfied as he sipped his champagne. “So, you like my legs?”

“Oh, no,” Steve said, shaking his head. “No, talking about how much I like your legs is not a first date topic of conversation.”

“What is, then?”

Steve grinned, a dark gleam in his eyes revealing that perhaps Bucky had responded exactly how he wanted. “Alright, I know it’s the antithesis of tradition, but I think you _have to_ talk politics and religion on a first date.” Bucky snorted and allowed him to continue explaining himself. “I mean, what’s the point of getting attached to someone after a few dates, investing in building a relationship, but once you get their pants off, you see their tiny dick and realize they’re a Republican.”

Bucky laughed, sounding almost muted from the sheer disbelief, and spared a glance to the cameras to his right. “Are you allowed to say that on a major network?”

“What? A producer on one of their biggest shows taking an incredibly harsh and unwavering political stance – shared by the entire production team here, mind you – that could potentially cost them fifty-percent of their viewers?” He gestured to the man with the handlebar mustache behind one of the cameras for confirmation, who simply shrugged. Bucky could respect that; _plausible deniability_. “Fuck no. They’ll be cutting back to the others, gossiping and theorizing about whatever we’re doing. There’s no way in hell they’d ever use this footage. Which is why you’re free to speak as freely as you’d like. If you want to, that is.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sighed but had nothing to hide. “I am absolutely a straight-ticket Dem early-voter.”

Steve’s face lit up, practically melting in a fuzzy, dream-like daze, overwhelmed with joy and happiness, like he had just been given a present with a pretty blue bow on top. “Love to hear it.” He clinked his glass against Bucky’s, which sat still on the table, and then raised it toward the cameraman. “One big commie family.”

Bucky let out another huff of a laugh, while the other producer mumbled a curse under his breath. “As for religion,” Bucky mused, playing along, steepling his fingers beneath his chin from where his elbows rested on the table, “my Ma raised my sister and I fairly agnostic. Not really pressuring us one way or the other. We just never really had much to believe in.”

Steve nodded. “I get that. _My_ Ma’s a pretty devout Catholic, certainly to a lesser extent than most, but it was ingrained in her from her parents. If she’s asking, then I go to Mass every Sunday, and all the time I spend on my knees is purely for prayer. If _you’re_ the one asking, though, then I only go to Mass once a year for Christmas with her, and I think you’re smart enough to figure out the rest of that sentence.” The corners of Steve’s lips curled upwards as he trailed off, and Bucky nodded, easily following his train of thought.

“Single mom?” Bucky wondered out loud and immediately realized the implications of his question with a silent gasp. “Sorry, that’s super invasive. I just–”

Steve shrugged, as if it was totally fair for him to ask. “No, you’re fine. Yeah, Dad died before I was a year old, so it was me and her against the world for all I can remember, which is why we’re so close.”

“Me too,” Bucky said with a nod. “Well, not quite, but close enough. My dad died when I was sixteen, but both me and my sister were much closer to our mother. He was kind of – absent.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve offered.

Candidly, Bucky shook his head. “He was a pretty shitty guy. No one really mourned.”

Unsure of why he had spilled all of this intimately personal information to a person who was still essentially a stranger to him in front of a production crew and the entire country, Bucky filled the awkward atmosphere with a generous sip of champagne, finding the wine to be about as bitter as the taste that was already in his mouth. _Christ_ , if this was practice for his dating life, he was certainly failing, and this experience was further evidence as to why his dating life didn’t exist.

Steve, however, didn’t seem to mind the oversharing, suggesting they discuss religion and politics to begin with; hell, he probably knew all of this information already, taken from Bucky’s portfolio and saved as flash cards in a Quizlet test on his phone. Following Bucky’s lead, Steve reached for his glass and let out a dry, disbelieving laugh of his own after he set it down. “Well, I’m glad we had the chance to lay our daddy issues out nicely on the table on the first date.” He ran his hand along the tablecloth and chuckled when he caught Bucky’s eye. “For the love of God, please change the topic, so they’ll have some sort of usable footage for the episode.”

“You’re just gonna produce this entire relationship, huh?”

Steve quirked an eyebrow at “relationship” but remained comfortably smug. “You really think that’s all I’m here for? Believe it or not, I _am_ interested in finding something from this show. I really do want to meet some new people, find someone, and maybe – _hopefully_ – make some kind of a special connection.”

“That’s sweet,” Bucky said, knowing his tone sounded unconvinced, but for a second, he could understand such an unabashed, unashamed belief in love. Just a second. “And, yet, you chose to meet me first?”

A slight raise in Steve’s shoulders answered the questioning tone in his voice, but he said anyway, “I liked talking with you. Don’t get me wrong, I still like talking with you. I enjoyed this a lot, actually.” Steve smiled with something sweet and earnest that Bucky couldn’t help but smile back. “You’re not exactly here for the ‘right’ reasons, but you’re definitely not here for the wrong ones. And I love that. I’ve loved every moment of this too, and I hope we can do it again. I’d love to keep talking with you.”

The way that Steve looked up at him, so shyly but determined, those blue eyes peering through golden lashes - _wow_. It made Bucky’s breathing grow shallow. He blamed it on the champagne as he took one final gulp from his glass. Still, after setting down his empty glass, he nodded. “I’d love that too.”

Once they finished the bottle, Steve led Bucky back to the cobblestone path that led back to the villa. “So, now, they’re going to get shots of us walking back, maybe your hand on my arm-”

“Yo! Rogers,” the producer interrupted, raising his eyebrows and giving him an incredulous look. “You gonna let me do my fucking job or what?”

Under the dim lights that were streamed above the pathway, Bucky could see a hint of a blush creep to Steve’s face as he raised his hands, defending himself. “Force of habit.”

The producer finished setting up the shot, instructing the other members of the crew how to position their cameras, and turned back to the two of them. “Alright, so – yeah, fine, everything he said. Just look happy. Smile, laugh, even if you’re faking it. Pretend like you had a good date.”

Bucky scoffed, looking to his left at Steve. “Well, I thought we had a good date.”

“I’d go as far as saying that we had a great date,” Steve said, and taking a small step closer, he lowered his voice. “I wanted to talk to you before we head back with all the others.”

Bucky nodded. “Sure.”

“I just wanted to see where your head’s at in terms of being here. You can be totally honest with me, because listen, there’s two things that can happen with the recoupling tomorrow. Right now, since everyone else is happy in their couples, it'll come down to me choosing between you and Brock, and obviously, I would choose you. That means you'd still be on the show for another week or so. Or, if you really don’t want to be here, I can make that happen and send you home. I can’t say that I’m looking forward to being coupled up with Brock, but it’s up to you. Whatever makes you happier.”

Bucky folded his lips in on themselves as he considered Steve’s offer.

If he had asked him that on the first day, Bucky absolutely would have taken the opportunity to leave early, but now? Now, he had a reason to stay. In the form of a beautiful, blond reality TV producer who bought him contraband coffee, complimented Bucky’s legs in front of the entire country, and joked about his dead father on their first date. Bucky still wasn’t sure how to define his type, but somehow, all of that qualified. And, hell, what was a few more days in paradise?

“I wouldn’t mind staying, and I really wouldn’t mind being coupled up with you.”

As if surprised by his response, Steve raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Bucky almost laughed. “Yeah, of course.”

“Cool,” Steve said, like a man trying desperately to convince himself that it was, in fact, _cool_. Shaking off his blush that appeared even more revealing under the natural lighting, he shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t sure what you said during the date that was for me versus what was for the camera.”

“Oh, nothing was for the camera. I meant everything that I said,” Bucky said, and he did. “Plus, I could never in good conscience force someone to be coupled up with Brock.”

The initial look of surprise on Steve’s face was quickly replaced by a more familiar, playful grin. “Ah, so you’re choosing me out of pity?” he asked, taking a step forward on the path.

“A little more than that,” Bucky mused and found that his hand wrapped perfectly around the bend in Steve’s elbow. “More like empathy.”

As they walked back to the golden glow of the villa, taking a leisurely and almost reluctant pace, they had no problem smiling and laughing as if they had a good date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a first date! I really hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> I truly can't thank you enough for all the amazing feedback I've received so far! It is so incredibly encouraging and reassuring, so feel free to keep it coming. I really appreciate it!
> 
> 🎧 "Daddy Issues" - The Neighborhood (Of course, I'm joking...unless?? 🤔)
> 
> Thanks again, and see you tomorrow! 😄


	7. Chapter 7

**Episode 7**

The first thing that Bucky saw when they rounded the corner to greet the rest of the cast on the deck was the look of shock on Nat’s face. “Holy shit,” she whispered, pulling him to the side of the kitchenette while Steve introduced himself to the others around the pool. “Obviously, I was hoping that it’d be him for your sake, but holy shit, I can’t believe it’s actually him.”

Bucky shook his head. “Oh, trust me, I can’t believe it’s him either.”

Hearing the excited squeals and surprised gasps behind him, apparently no one else could believe it either.

“Well,” Nat continued, clearly focused on one objective, “how was the date?”

Feeling his heart stutter a bit in his chest, making itself pronounced, and a tingling rush of heat flood his face, Bucky couldn’t deny the physical reaction he had toward thinking about their date. It was almost – _surprising_? “It was nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was really nice. We split a bottle of champagne and mostly just got to talk, introduce ourselves.”

She grinned. “How was the conversation? Everything you dreamed about?”

“I never _dreamed_ about him,” Bucky protested. “It was good, though. He’s incredibly easy to talk to and so funny. Dear god, Nat, he already has my sense of humor down to a T, which made me so comfortable with him and probably encouraged me to say some things that I shouldn’t have said.”

Her eyebrows raised, but before he could clarify whatever question she intended to ask, the rest of the group called for them to join them around the fire pit. “Bring a drink,” someone said. “We’re playing Never Have I Ever.”

_Great_ , Bucky thought as he poured himself a plastic glass of unlabeled red wine, and based on Nat’s snicker, he realized that he may have said that out loud.

Together, they joined on opposite ends of the semicircle where everyone else had squeezed Steve into the middle, preparing to bombard him with questions. Bucky caught his eye when he took his seat, flashing him a sympathetic half-smile after seeing a sign of slight nervousness in his eyes and trying not to overthink what it meant that he could already recognize those nonverbal details after only knowing him for a few hours.

“So we take a sip for everything that we’ve done?” Wanda asked, and the rest of the group nodded.

“Correct,” Val said.

“New friend,” Thor said, tossing his arm behind Steve’s head and clapping him on the shoulder, “why don’t you start? What better way to get to know you?”

Steve smiled, looking around to everyone – something gregarious in the action, something political. It was clear that he worked with people for a living, evident in the manner that he made eye contact with every single person, listening and sharing his attention equally. He melded seamlessly with the group, as if he was truly meant to be there with them, rather than stuck behind – or beside – the camera. “Alright, listen, I’ve seen this game played thousands of times, so I am saying this only because I know it’ll get a good response.” He paused and let his gaze dip down to his drink, a clear plastic cup with pink flamingos wrapped around as the design. “Never Have I Ever had a three-way.”

“We can change that,” Clint added quickly before anyone else could react.

The others laughed and shared their approval with a few excited cheers and squeals, looking around to see who would be the first to take a sip. Across from him, Bucky watched as Nat sheepishly took a sip from her cup, followed by Val who took a similarly small sip and Thor who proudly gulped at least a quarter of his drink.

Continuing by moving to Steve’s left, Thor finished swallowing as he appeared to think of his question. “Few things that I have not done, but Never Have I Ever been arrested.”

Bucky had to admit that he tossed a glance at Brock first before his attention was torn away by the only person to raise their glass: Steve.

After taking his sip, Steve explained himself. “Let’s just say that I had a bit of rebellious phase throughout high school, but instead of telling my mother that I hated her, I went to a lot of protests and marches. One of them got a little out of hand – or, rather, the cops decided that a peaceful demonstration got ‘out of hand’ – and I found myself cuffed, thrown in the back of an NYPD squad car, and spending a few hours in a freezing cold cell. Long story short, Ma was the one to come bail me out, and I think that pretty clearly revokes any potential street cred that that story can earn me.”

That particular story had not come up over dinner, but after their conversation, knowing Steve’s proclivities for bending the rules, Bucky couldn’t act surprised and couldn’t say that it made him any less – _interested_. He reassured him with a faint quirk of his lips when Steve looked in his direction, and Steve ducked his head with a shy smile of his own.

The next prompts were dumb and sexual, forcing Bucky to take a sip for hooking up in a “technically-public” space and another, which he didn’t disagree with, for being walked in on. Starting to feel somehow targeted, Nat definitely targeted her prompt at him, staring blatantly into his eyes with a grin, “Never Have I Ever forgotten a hookup’s name.”

Bucky rolled his eyes before defending himself. “Listen, I remembered it during the night but forgot it in the morning. I swear to god, this guy looked like a Tim.”

“Still have to drink, babe,” Nat said with zero remorse, and Bucky took his sip, finding the wine to be peculiarly dry.

With the next turn landing on his spot, Bucky had no trouble translating that acrimony into his suggestion, targeting it right back at her, “Never Have I Ever spilled an entire glass of wine on my date.”

Nat sighed, while the others laughed. “You will never let me live that down, will you?”

“Considering I was also at the table with my own date and therefore in the splash zone, no, I don’t think I will.”

Bucky allowed himself to laugh with the others, as she flipped him off while taking her sip, but all of them were shocked when Clint joined her. “Yeah, if we ever have a date, we’ll be lucky if we both make it out clean,” he said, sounding just sad enough to be unabashedly honest. 

The remainder of the game played out in a similar fashion with stupid suggestions, making everyone drink at some point and prompting accompanying stories about declined invitations to orgies and surprisingly-practical uses for various cooking oils.

But the tone changed when the final turn landed on Riley. With Sam’s arm around his shoulders, he looked down at his drink, swirling the liquid, as if mulling over a troubling thought. “Okay,” he finally said, breaking the growing silence and taking a deep breath to almost steady himself. “I only ask this because I know from experience how shady producers from reality shows can be, so I think it’s fair that we know the answer.” A few raised eyebrows and other questioning expressions nudged him to continue. “Never Have I Ever slept with a Love Island contestant.”

Knowing that the prompt could only apply to one person, the attention of the group returned to where it began when they started this game: facing the center toward Steve.

Bucky felt his chest tighten but was unsure as to why. He truly didn’t care who Steve had slept with or if they had been on the show, but the others certainly did care, evident in the immediate shift from a fun, college party game to a serious interrogation. Steve, however, remained perfectly calm, seemingly unaffected by the unpleasant suggestion or the tension in the humid air. “You’re right. It’s a totally valid question and you all do deserve to know the truth, but I also think that I’m reserved the right to explain myself.”

Someone gasped, someone made a disgusted noise, and Riley shook his head, as if he had known that he was right about something all along.

“Please,” Steve said, “I want you all to know that I take my job very seriously, and I have never and will never take advantage of my position. I’ve never slept with anyone that I’ve worked with on the show. I’ve never kissed anyone, I’ve never flirted, I’ve never done anything to compromise that professional relationship. I would never do any of that to begin with, but there are also rules and regulations that prevent it from happening when we’re filming. Six months after the premiere of the season finale, though, we’re allowed to pursue a friendly or romantic relationship with each other.”

Bucky nodded, able to vouch for him that that was precisely the stipulation in the contract if he asked, but instead, Steve continued, “So, yeah, a few people have found me through social media after those six months and reached out. My longest relationship was actually with a former contestant.”

After the initial unease, the group settled more comfortably, appearing to be accepting of his explanation. No one responded at first, allowing the air to return to a more relaxed state, until Val asked quietly, “Who was it?”

Steve gave a dry laugh and looked down at his drink, cocking his head to the left and right, as if weighing whether or not he could say. Ultimately, he must have decided on, _Why not?_ “Sharon Carter from Season 7.”

Of course, meaning nothing to Bucky, that response was met with surprised gasps and excited words of agreement. “Oh my god, she was my favorite.”

“She was the best!”

“Such a shame that she never found someone.”

Bucky looked to Nat to see how to gauge his reaction, and she looked equally-thrilled to be discussing this woman.

In seconds, the conversation shifted back to that bubbly energy that matched the tone of when he first walked into the villa, full of life and eager to shower him with questions. Like before, Steve was prepared, and Bucky listened, learning quite a bit about his dinner date’s last relationship. Sharon was apparently a well-liked, down-to-earth nurse who was independent and headstrong yet kind and thoughtful. They were together for three years and ended it on mutual, amicable terms after coming _to_ terms with the fact that neither of them were willing to move in order to accommodate their relationship, realizing that they had different goals in life. Steve said that she was the first person that he had genuinely fallen in love with, and they apparently still happily spoke to each other. (But the slight hesitation in his tone gave a clear indication that maybe he wasn’t completely happy.)

After seemingly exhausting all potential questions about his dating history, the circle began to dissolve with couples breaking off to chat privately or get ready for bed. Steve hung back at the fire pit, remaining seated while saying goodnight to his now-fellow contestants, and Bucky stayed with him until everyone else was gone. He waited a few moments before cracking a sly grin. “Well,” he said. “That was fun.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, like he was finally able to relax and speak truthfully, Steve sunk back onto his cushion and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing like talking about your ex for fifteen minutes to a bunch of strangers. I feel like you know everything about me now.”

“Now you know how we feel, Steve.”

Even appearing utterly drained, Steve had no issue with thinking of a quick comeback. “Wow, you remembered my name.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he rose from his seat. “Uh huh, let’s see if I remember it in the morning.”

Just before he turned to walk away, Bucky caught the glimpse of Steve’s smile, radiating such genuine warmth before he said fondly, “Good night, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we learned a little more about our lovely competitors and our new leading man, in particular. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the support! Seeing all the kudos and reading all your comments has been the highlight of my day for the past week, so thank you very much! 
> 
> tumblr: buckyandthejets
> 
> I hope y'all are ready for a fun one tomorrow 😎


	8. Chapter 8

**Episode 8**

As he had grown accustomed to in his established Love Island routine, with one leg hanging off the bed, Bucky woke up before anyone else. Steve was his first thought, knowing that he wouldn’t force Bucky to grasp the edge of the mattress if they shared a bed together. Without a partner, Steve slept in one of the two unoccupied beds, and now that he was thinking about it, Bucky couldn’t figure out why the hell he was still sleeping with Brock when there had been _two unoccupied beds_ at the other end of the room. On his way to the living room to refill his water bottle, he realized that both beds were still unoccupied, meaning that Steve was also awake – as he had also grown accustomed to.

Grabbing his usual red apple from the plastic bowl on the kitchenette island, Bucky caught sight of him across the pool deck in the gym area where he was – _Oh_. 

Under the strips of early-morning sunlight, Steve appeared completely immersed in his workout, shirtless and wearing shorts that revealed the muscles in his calves and thighs that tensed as he dipped down for lunges. Steve turned around when he reached the fence, and Bucky couldn’t help but allow his mouth to drop open at the sight. Sure, Bucky had seen his arms, unable to miss the truly stunning size of his biceps that fought the elastic bands of his black t-shirts, and judging on proportions, he could assume that the rest of Steve’s body followed a similarly-impressive template.

But, _damn_.

There was no way in hell that this man was real. He was stolen from the covers of magazines that Bucky kept hidden under his bed when he was young, airbrushed and gleaming and flawless. His chest and abs could only have been carved out of marble. As the muse and the artist and the art itself, all wrapped in one, he was the true envy and dream of any Greek sculptor. He was otherworldly – body deserving of praise from a cult of followers, worshipping him on their knees.

So, maybe, possibly, Bucky began to realize the validity of attraction based on appearances alone.

Concealed under the shadows of the porch, Bucky watched freely as a bead of sweat fell from Steve’s neck, down the center of his chest, and rolled along each of his abdominal muscles. Hungrily, Bucky chased the path of his sweat with his eyes in the same manner that he would watch a drop of rain run down a panel of glass, subconsciously rooting for its first-place finish among the other droplets of the unspoken race. In that moment, Bucky wished nothing more than to follow that path with his mouth.

With his eyes strictly trained in Steve’s direction, Bucky clearly saw when Steve finally lifted his head, looking right at Bucky and instantly knowing that he had been watching. Steve paused, eyes squinting and face briefly contorting, as if questioning what he had seen before smoothing back to an all-knowing grin. With no urgency, he finished the set and returned the weights to the rack; meanwhile, Bucky ducked his head and busied himself by doing a lap around the kitchenette.

Catching up to him, Steve joined him on the deck, allowing himself to flex by propping a hand on his hip as if he knew exactly what it would do to Bucky, who distracted himself by staring at the pattern of the fake marble, pretending to not notice him. Steve, _the bastard_ , refused to give up until Bucky apparently acknowledged his presence and cleared his throat. “Enjoying the view?”

Bucky shook his head, continuing to stare down at the gray countertop, pointing out the flecks of glittering silver with his eyes. “Thought you could use a few pointers.”

“Sure,” Steve said and stepped closer, crossing his arms over that magnificent chest. “You gonna eat that?”

Conjuring up his own courage, he lifted his gaze to see Steve pointing at the apple in Bucky’s hand. Bucky felt his face flush the same color as the Gala he held, realizing that he hadn’t even taken a bite of the apple. He’d simply been keeping it pressed against his mouth, gawking – admittedly somewhat creepily from afar – in awe and admiration, while his tongue subconsciously traced the deep grooves of hard muscle.

And somehow Steve knew this, cocking an eyebrow at Bucky’s hesitation. Without asking for his permission, Steve plucked the apple from his loose grasp and held it up to the lights as if admiring it before taking a bite. He savored it like it was the sweetest thing he had ever eaten, licking his lips after he swallowed, and then offered the fruit back to Bucky, extending his arm across the countertop. It was an oddly-intimate gesture that reminded Bucky of sharing coffee on the second day that they had met and left his mouth gaping open.

Before the events of this fever dream could develop any further, a scream from the bedroom interrupted them, “I got a text!”

Steve seemed almost reluctant for them to separate, slowly moving backward, but led him the few steps toward the house.

When they appeared in the doorway together, their entrance earned a few questioning and intrigued glances from those who were awake enough to notice, like Nat and Carol, while the others winced at the overhead lights and groggily pulled off their sleeping masks, like Riley who was clinging to Sam’s bare chest. They all turned toward the center of the room where Thor was sitting up in bed, holding his phone.

“Islanders,” he read out loud, voice impossibly deeper from the time of day, “tonight there will be a recoupling. Sam, Nat, Wanda, Carol, and Steve will choose between Brock, Clint, Thor, Riley, Val, and Bucky. The person who is not picked to be in a couple will be dumped from the Island. #Got-to-Go #Get-to-Grafting”

The message caused enough of a stir in the bedroom to get more people to open their eyes and exchange muted whispers with an underlying air of concern. Completely unperturbed, Bucky remained more hung-up on the hashtags, looking to Steve where he positioned himself leaning relaxed against the doorframe. “The hell does ‘get to grafting’ mean?”

“Slang from the original series from across the pond. Just means talking, chatting, having those little flirty conversations that secure your spot in at least one couple to stay on the Island. Might want to get to work on that. How about I shower, and when I’m out, you can start with me.”

Before he could even respond, Steve tossed him the rest of the apple and walked away, leaving Bucky to stand alone and look down at the half-eaten fruit in his hands. Following the bite marks with his eyes, as if tempting him to add to them, join him in tasting the forbidden fruit, he realized that maybe it _was_ Adam and Steve in that garden after all.

While waiting for Steve to finish getting ready, Bucky found himself – out of all the possible places in the entire villa – at a table with Riley, Wanda, and Val. “How’s everyone feeling about the recoupling?” Val asked before taking a sip of her tea.

“Not bad,” Riley said and took a bite of his toast, whole wheat with a thin layer of peanut butter and exactly what Bucky would imagine models ate for breakfast. “I feel like we’re all pretty comfortable with our couples right now.”

Val nodded. “Carol already said she’s down for a week two with me.”

“Thor and I decided that we aren’t exactly going to work out long-term, but I’ll still pick him tonight so we both have a second chance when new Islanders come,” Wanda peeped up from behind a steaming mug of coffee.

“Speaking of,” Riley trailed off, staring down at the opposite head of the table at Bucky, as the other two turned their attention to him as well.

“Yeah,” Val said with a smile, “how are things with the producer? Think he’ll pick you?”

“Uh.” Bucky looked between all three of them with their eager grins, seeming to lean closer and closer, as if to interrogate him. “Maybe, I guess.”

“Well, I definitely think he’ll pick you over Brock,” Wanda said quietly, but the others agreed with vigorous nods.

Less enthusiastic, Riley cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not worried about a little competition?”

Before Bucky could reply, Val beat him to it. “Please, I wouldn’t be worried in the slightest if I were you. We all saw the way he played the game last night. After everything he said, _anything_ , he would look at you to make sure it was okay and that he didn’t hurt your feelings. That boy’s smitten.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, completely oblivious to this fact and wondering where his attention had been during the game.

The chorus agreed, confirming their assent with nods and words of affirmation: “Obviously,” from Wanda and “Absolutely,” from Riley.

_Huh_. The thought of Steve watching out for his reactions, concerned that his dating history would make him uncomfortable or uneasy or uninterested, made Bucky feel oddly – _comforted_? Maybe honored that Steve was so caring even at this early stage of their whatever-this-was-and-would-end-up-being. He definitely felt respected, which only made the dreamlike events of the morning so much more exciting, ticking off another box on that damn mental checklist that he was realizing absolutely existed.

Confident and competent, bordering on the very edge of cocky while still being frustratingly likable? Check.

Solid (yet morally-questionable) job that would allow him to remain independent without having to rely on Bucky’s paychecks? Check.

Careful and cautious of his feelings but with a body that Bucky could only dream of getting into his bed to do unspeakable things with? Definitely check.

So, maybe, Bucky shouldn’t have been surprised to feel the prickling heat creep up his neck when he saw Steve finally emerge from the house with Sam and Thor on either side of him. Seeing the man that he – fine, he could admit it – _liked_ , flanked by two equally-breathtaking men, who were catching his eye while simultaneously being caught by their eyes, was a bit challenging. Something about “competition” resonated in his ears with a bitter hiss.

Their outfits, however, were much easier to look at, to say the least. All three wore only their swim trunks, similar styles with each pair ending mid-thigh: Sam in red, Thor in white, and Steve in blue. “American Dream is alive and well,” Val muttered under her breath, and Riley agreed with a deep sigh.

Shamelessly, their table continued to watch them without any attempt to hide their longing stares. Apparently getting along well already, the three playfully shoved each other and laughed when they sat down at the fire pit, heads down, as they appeared to strategize.

Riley gave another melodramatic, daytime-soap sigh before turning back to their own circle. “I won’t lie. Your boy’s pretty, Bucky, and I’d maybe sweep in there and steal him away,” he said, tossing a wink at Bucky, who immediately tensed, and then added, fondly, “if I weren’t so into that mighty fine-looking guy on his right.”

That amendment to his initial thought elicited a squeal of delight from Val who scooched closer to Riley on the bench, lowering her voice. “Does that mean things are going well with Sam?”

“ _So_ well,” Riley gushed and dove headfirst into describing their bedtime chats, negating his shy-yet-eager, quiet tone of voice with his willingness to share all of the little details. “We had a little cuddle last night…”

Bucky listened to how _a little cuddle_ turned into _a little kiss_ and _oh my stars, he’s just amazing_ , but the sweet, southern drawl melted into a low, ambient buzz in the background of Bucky’s mind when combined with the heat. He couldn’t help but allow his attention to fall in Steve’s direction, drawn to his presence like a focal point of a painting. Steve looked so perfect, so natural in this setting. In the environment of his own creation, he sprawled out on the bench around the fire pit, stretching his arms wide behind Sam and Thor, like he had always been part of this culture. He looked like a king or a senator or – at the very least – the president of some college honors society, charming his way into the position with one good speech, little experience, and zero opposition.

He looked like the winner of this damn reality competition.

He looked right at Bucky, all the way from across the pool, and cocked his head, gesturing to the swings which remained unoccupied.

“I think that’s your cue,” Wanda said, while Riley and Val continued bonding over Riley and Sam’s bonding.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “I guess so.”

The perfect, warm glow that Steve radiated took on an air of intimidation as Bucky walked closer to it, drawing the attention of everyone else and avoiding their watchful eyes. It was a lot of pressure, Bucky realized: the fresh and shiny new guy could have been talking to absolutely anyone in the villa, and yet, he chose Bucky. The choice was as humbling as it was confusing. Bucky had no idea what he had to offer him, why Steve wanted to pick him, whether it was because he saw genuine potential in their connection, or because Bucky flirted back the first day they had met.

He wasn’t entirely sure which option he feared more.

But, as soon as he joined him on the swinging bench, the gray, hazy clouds of worry and doubt parted in Bucky’s mind, unable to feel anything but comfort in his presence, because while the other Islanders were looking in their direction, staring at Steve, the only person Steve had eyes for was Bucky. Bucky could see them clearly, crystal blue, with Steve’s sunglasses pushed up into his hair. They weren’t the same simple, black pair of sunglasses that Bucky had associated with him fumbling into the V-neck of his black tee but sleek, silver chrome aviators that were borrowed from the shared closet labelled “Designer” that they were encouraged to use heavily for free advertisement. On Steve, Bucky imagined that he could sell just about anything in the world.

Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind his ear when Steve sat beside him. “Hi there,” Bucky said, finding his voice surprisingly shy.

“Hello,” Steve said before quickly adding, “again.”

_At least the nerves were mutual_ , Bucky thought as he cleared his throat. “So, you’re settling in okay?”

“Settling into a tropical resort filled by stunning people where my coworkers have to wait on me hand and foot? Yeah, I think I’m doing alright.”

“That’s good.” Bucky looked down at his hands where they clasped between his legs, forced to acknowledge the awkward lull in the conversation and feeling an apology rush through his chest, bubbling out of his lips, “Listen, about this morning-”

“It was great?” Steve interrupted with the corner of his mouth raised.

“Me creepily staring at you from afar, like I had never seen a shirtless man before, was great?”

“Me getting confirmation that the guy I find insanely attractive also finds me attractive was great.”

Bucky held his tongue, weighing his options for how to respond and choosing the teasing option. “Are there really people in the world who find you unattractive?”

Bringing a knee to his chest, Steve shrugged. “What can I say? I guess the whole blond hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, six-pack abs thing doesn’t do it for some people.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Bucky chuckled and shook his head at the way that Steve leaned back comfortably on the bench, proudly. “You plan on spending the rest of this conversation complimenting yourself?”

“I mean, I was hoping you’d be complimenting me at some point. I could compliment you a bit.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, squinting at the sun as he turned to face Steve more directly. “Oh, yeah?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah.” Steve used one strong, exposed leg to rock them back and forth, and Bucky had no issue with falling into the steady rhythm that he set. He also had no issue with Steve raising a hand to curl a strand of Bucky’s hair around his index finger before letting it fall freely and twisting a different section around another finger. “I love brunettes. Sorry to throw out the scary, four-letter word only twelve hours after really getting to know you, but I mean, the way that the light catches the high points of the curls, bringing out flecks of red and making them sparkle like copper, and then disappears into the deep brown of the inner curl, like here? Fucking gorgeous. I could run my hands through your hair and watch the way it catches the sun all day if you’d let me.”

_Fuck_.

Bucky felt his breath hitch in his throat, lulled by the swaying of the swing and the natural gravity that compelled him to drop his gaze down to Steve’s lips with every other word that he said. Clearing his throat, Bucky forced himself backward and glanced around to see that a few of his companions from the morning were staring. “People are watching.”

“Yeah, well, can you blame them for wanting to get a glimpse of the winning couple?” Steve asked, so simply and plainly.

Bucky scoffed but smiled anyway, seemingly unavoidable when he was with Steve. “Does that mean you’re still planning on picking me tonight?”

“Of course. As long as that’s okay with you.”

Looking around at the other couples, Bucky saw the way that Sam lightly cradled Riley’s jaw as they shared a kiss in the corner of the villa underneath the shade of a fake palm tree. Val and Carol lazily kicked the water from where they dangled their feet in the pool. At the island in the kitchenette, Brock interrupted a conversation between Wanda and Thor, as he desperately tried another connection before the elimination. Lying beside each other in one of the daybeds, even Nat appeared perfectly content to be partnered with Clint. _One week hadn’t been too bad_ , Bucky realized. _What was one more?_

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s okay with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode 8, alternatively titled: A full week in and Bucky's finally realizing that Steve might happen to be an attractive man. 😂
> 
> On a different note, a full week in, and I could not be happier with the response I've gotten on this story! For a while, I considered scrapping it, second-guessing the story and thinking that no one would like this idea, but you have clearly proven that my efforts were definitely not in vain. Thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos and comments, especially those of you who comment every chapter; you are all rock stars and I can't thank you enough! We still have a LOT to get through, and I am beyond thankful and humbled that you've chosen to go on this journey with me. 😊
> 
> Lastly, my apologies for uploading this chapter a little later in the afternoon than usual, but I refuse to publish something if I don't have the chance to double-check, triple-check...and then check for a fourth time, just in case I missed a little detail. (In case you're curious, I actually took the lsat this morning so that I can apply to law schools and start my own law school journey next year. Fingers crossed I did as well as Bucky, haha 🤞🏻)
> 
> And lastly, lastly, I hope y'all are ready for a recoupling tomorrow and one of the moments we've all been waiting for! 😜


	9. Chapter 9

**Episode 9**

“Someone’s looking happy,” Nat pointed out as Bucky slid onto the daybed, taking Clint’s place after he apparently found the strength in him to stop giving her puppy-dog eyes and leave her to give them the chance to talk.

“I could say the same about you.”

Nat stretched her arms high above her head, extending her legs and pointing her glitter-painted toes in perfect parallel lines. Wearing a bright red bikini that showed off the pastel hummingbird on her left ribcage, she had nothing to hide and couldn’t deny the smile on her bright red lips. “I had a pretty easy decision for the recoupling tonight.”

Looking over to the pool where Clint was demonstrating a tightrope walk to a small audience on the deck, Bucky smirked. “You sticking with your acrobat?”

She peeked a glance from under her own borrowed-designer sunglasses and hummed contentedly. “My little circus freak.”

Scoffing, Bucky shook his head, unsure if he was able to believe the fondness in her tone. “We’re gonna talk about this, right?”

“Maybe later. I think we should talk about you right now.”

“And why exactly should we talk about me?” Bucky asked, getting comfortable with an arm thrown behind his head and closing his eyes. His eyes immediately popped back open when he felt a sharp slap against his chest. “Ow!”

“You can play dumb with your boo all you want, James Barnes, but you know damn well you can’t play dumb with me,” she explained without any sympathy or remorse.

Bucky winced as he rubbed the red handprint forming on his skin. “I wasn’t playing dumb, and he’s not my – whatever.”

“Right, so you just kiss any old reality TV producer in front of a national audience?”

“We never kissed.”

Bucky noticed a slight twitch in her cheekbones from where she clenched her a jaw – a telltale sign of her starting to lose her patience. “ _Right_ ,” Nat corrected herself, “so you just let any old reality TV producer _play with your hair_.”

Well, Bucky couldn’t exactly argue with that, feeling the ghost sensations of Steve’s fingers in his hair. Toying with a strand of his own, Bucky dared to toss her a grin. “Well, it is fantastic hair. Can you blame him?”

Without an immediate response, Nat apparently couldn’t argue with _that_. She laid flat on her back, exposing the insides of her arms to catch the sun, and Bucky followed her lead with a sigh. After a few minutes of basking in the warmth, hot but not overbearingly so, she asked, “He’s picking you, right?”

Bucky surveyed the perimeter of the pool before finding Steve where he was trapped in a presumably-miserable, dead-end conversation with Brock on the swings. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Spotting Steve as well, Nat smiled. “Should be a fun elimination then.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

_Fun_ wasn’t exactly how Bucky would describe the afternoon leading up to the elimination. _Fun_ didn’t characterize hours of watching the man he was interested in make small talk with a handful of other pretty people. _Fun_ was certainly not the atmosphere of the dressing rooms where everyone, despite having a confident plan with their partners to ensure their places on the Island, was anxiously ironing clothes or putting on makeup.

Okay, Bucky had to admit diffusing his hair with loose waves was a little fun, but nice hair didn’t make up for the nervous, idle chatter in the background, constantly stirring up mindless conversations about nothing in particular. Interrupting the swirling of voices around his head, Nat appeared at his side while he stood in front of his closet. She bounced a curl against her palm with a grin. “Beachy.”

Bucky paused with his hand on a hanger, looking back at her over his shoulder. “Did you just call me bitchy?”

Rolling her eyes, Nat lightly punched his arm. “I am now, bitch. What are you wearing tonight?”

“I was gonna ask _you_ that.” He gave her a onceover to gauge her Sunday best. In a strapless, form-fitted, peach dress with glitzy silver and gold decoration, she looked nostalgically reminiscent of her seasonal Sugar Plum Fairy with her hair in an elegant French braid and her makeup natural yet glamorous to match. “Gorgeous.”

“Woo me all you want, Barnes, but I’m not getting in your boy’s way.”

“Can I woo you into telling me what to wear then?”

She pushed his hand out of the way and handed him the first shirt that she touched – a black button-down with neon-colored, geometric shapes that Nat said looked “youthful” in the store but Bucky thought looked like the carpet of a 90’s bowling alley. “Something fun and colorful to celebrate after the elimination tonight. Thot it up with those black skinny jeans with the slits on the knees. White Vans. You’ll look great.”

Nat kissed him on the cheek before leaving him to get changed into that exact fun, colorful, celebratory, thottie outfit. When he exited the dressing room, no one was waiting to greet him and shower him with praise as they did with Riley, complimenting the orange, corduroy jumpsuit stolen right from Woodstock. A thick, tan belt fit tightly around his slim waist, and matching tan ankle boots allowed him to tower over everyone else, as if it was even possible for him to be any taller. Apparently, he had also gotten the wavy hair memo, except his appeared effortless, waves wavier, soft and shiny.

Reminding himself to stop comparing himself to a literal supermodel, Bucky decided to step outside for some space and fresh air. Unfortunately, getting some space and fresh air with his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of literal supermodel meant walking directly into the other person attempting to walk through the doorway. “Shit, sorry,” Bucky started to say before noticing who was holding his arms steady.

“You’re fine,” Steve said and appeared to take the opportunity before letting go to look Bucky over, eyes lingering like he was calculating the area and circumference of each geometric figure on his shirt. As if unable to stop himself from talking, Steve added, “You look amazing.”

Bucky looked down at where his hands had started idly toying with the hem of his shirt. “Thanks, I was starting to have second-thoughts about this outfit. I think this shirt is incredibly ugly if I’m being honest.”

“Oh good, because that’s how I feel about mine too. I mean, white hibiscus flowers on a blue backdrop is so last year.”

“Obviously.”

“And worst to come worst, we just take ‘em off, right?”

“Obviously.”

Steve smirked as he patted Bucky’s shoulder – the tactile bastard – and walked past him, leaving Bucky to stand alone in the doorway.

_Alright, fine_ , so maybe the events leading up to the elimination had been a little fun for Bucky.

After the others joined him outside, they shared compliments about each other’s outfits, readjusting to seeing each other in normal clothes rather than bathing suits. All linen shirts ironed with crisp lines and dresses with lace, glitter, and all sorts of patterns that would play optical illusions on camera.

Preemptive drinking appeared to be the common activity, and the drink of choice, which was thrust into Bucky’s hand, was spiked seltzer in a pink, plastic cup. The mindless conversations had found their way outside, and Bucky found himself pretending to enjoy the flavor of artificial grapefruit bubbling on his tongue, while he stood in a circle with Carol and Val. They looked perfect together – Carol in gray suit jacket with a glittery tank top beneath it and short, black shorts and Val in a strapless, gold dress that matched one of the medals she had in a trophy case back home. Val laughed at something Carol said, grabbing onto her arm and making one of Val’s dangling, gold bracelets jingle.

Having missed the punchline, Bucky looked around at the other couples who were doing the same, biding their time as they waited for the other evening-wear shoe to drop, which came, _as it always did_ :

“Guys, I got a text!”

Everyone gathered around Sam, looking charming in a striped white-and-blue dress shirt, while he continued to read out loud, “Islanders, please gather around the fire pit.”

After positioning half of them into an ideal order around the fire pit with the remainder on the turf, in a line to face the others, a producer – the one with the mustache who called out Steve on their date – cued another producer – one with a French accent and a pack of cigarettes in his pocket – to switch on a fan, blowing down the walkway from the deck to the bedroom and rustling the ivy that lined the brick wall across from the house. Everyone watched in silence as Janet appeared, and the ruffles of her bold, violet gown caught the manufactured breeze, while the coats and coats of hairspray tethered down her hair. Given the luxury of this behind-the-scenes tour, looking over his shoulder at one end of the line, Bucky could appreciate the artistry; _listen, practical effects are always in style_.

Stopping on her mark beside Bucky, Janet cast her eyes around the whole group. “Islanders, after about a week of getting to know each other, settling into your couples, tonight will be your first recoupling. Sam, Nat, Wanda, and Carol you may choose to remain in your couples, or you may decide to choose to couple with someone else. As the newest Islander, Steve, you will have the advantage of choosing first, between Brock, Clint, Thor, Riley, Val, and Bucky. Whoever is not chosen to be in a couple will be eliminated and immediately asked to leave the Island.”

Steve appeared to wait out the perfect length of time for a dramatic pause before rising from his seat. “Hi, Janet.”

She smiled with all perfectly straight and white teeth. “How are you adapting to being on this side of the camera, Steve?”

“You know, I thought having years of experience as a producer on the show would make this transition completely natural, but I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this out of my element before. It’s definitely an odd adjustment, but everyone has been so incredible in helping me feel even more comfortable minute by minute.”

Amused, Bucky watched him work the crowd. As the others swooned and beamed, he felt less moved, catching Steve’s eye and briefly cocking an eyebrow, as if to say, _You wrote that ahead of time_.

Steve looked back without any hesitation, as if to say, _Of course I did_.

“Steve,” Janet said, pulling his attention back to her and wasting no more time, “before you are five Islanders. Who would you like to couple up with?”

Steve passed his glance over Bucky, looking at everyone in the line before launching into another (presumably) pre-written but flawlessly-executed speech. “When I got the final confirmation that I would be allowed to be a contestant on the show, I was so nervous. I didn’t think that I would fit in and I definitely didn’t think that I would connect with anyone, but I couldn’t be happier that I decided to take the risk. You have all made me feel so incredibly welcome, and I truly cannot thank you enough for the support that everyone has shown me – well, mostly everyone.”

He smirked at Riley, who remained seated beside him and shrugged in response.

“Getting to know all of you has truly been such a great experience, but I have to admit that I’ve had a strong connection with this particular Islander since the very first moment that we met. Every time that we talk, this person astounds me with their wit and intelligence but also makes me laugh and say the wildest things that I definitely shouldn’t say. They’re unique and unpredictable, and they’re so damn gorgeous that I can hardly tear my eyes away from them.”

Bucky swallowed, feeling his chest tighten and ignoring the looks in his direction, because even as Steve spoke in general terms, everyone knew exactly who he was talking about.

“I’m not entirely sure what we have or where it could go, but I can’t wait to see. So, the person that I’d like to couple up with is,” Steve began, and despite expecting his name to follow, Bucky held his breath until Steve gave one final sweep of the line before catching his gaze and holding it confidently. “Bucky.”

The others clapped, but Bucky couldn’t hear their applause over the pounding thud of his heartbeat in his ears. In the moment that Steve began to say his name, that steady rhythm in his chest missed a beat, off tempo, even though this had always been the plan. He looked at Nat to gauge her reaction, and what he expected to be cryptic and requiring additional interpretation turned out to be a warm, reassuring smile, encouraging him to take the first step forward. The next were faster, leading him into Steve’s arms. It was the closest that they’d been, and Bucky couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t done this sooner. Steve felt warm, and his body felt firm. Those rippling muscles of his back were smooth and solid underneath the soft, silky shirt beneath Bucky’s hands. Inhaling, Bucky wondered how easily he could be intoxicated by the spicy pine scent of Steve’s aftershave and cologne.

(Thrilled to take his seat after the world around him started to spin, Bucky realized that it turned out to be quite easy to get drunk off of that delightful smell.)

Contentedly pressed against Steve’s side, Bucky watched with mild interest as the rest of the recoupling went exactly how he predicted. Carol chose Val after gushing about her beauty (“both inside and out”), and Nat chose Clint, as she said she would. Unsure whether to laugh or feel terrified, Bucky gasped at the sight of Clint lifting his childhood best friend and spinning her around without any of the expertise that she would expect from a dancer on stage. Still, she smiled when her feet met the ground again, ecstatic, like there was no person that she would prefer to be holding her.

“Fascinating,” Steve observed as a whisper while they applauded, and Bucky couldn’t agree more.

Next, Riley stole the show with a heartwarming speech about how lucky he had been to spend the week with Sam, who was one of the few people in the world who could see past the glitter and glam of the celebrity status. Sam wasn’t some star-struck fan. In his blue button-down, Sam was the perfect complement to Riley’s bright orange ensemble, and he gladly accepted his place beside Riley with their first on-camera kiss in front of the group. The raucous applause and cheers of the others rivaled the giddy happiness of the couple, themselves.

With four couples sitting comfortably around the fire pit and two people standing beside Janet, that left one more decision to be made.

“Wanda,” Janet said after she had risen from her seat, wearing a low-cut black dress with a lace overlay that touched the ground. “Before you are Brock and Thor. The person that you do not choose to couple up with will leave the Island tonight. With that being said, who would you like to couple up with?”

Wanda took a breath, appearing to steady herself, stuck in the unfortunate villain role, but as everyone knew, her decision had been made far before this moment and did not in any way make her a villain. “I want to couple up with this person, because even though he may not be the right one for me, he deserves another chance to find whoever that person may be. He’s a great guy with a big heart, and there is nothing more that I could possibly want than giving him the opportunity to find love on this Island. So, the person I’d like to couple with is…”

With a kind, unnecessary apology behind her light brown eyes, she looked at Brock, who was staring at the ground with his hands behind his back like he was already accepting his fate, before turning her attention to, “Thor.”

Thor’s mighty chest fell as he let out the sigh that he was holding. Out of only politeness and following the order of the show’s decorum, he pulled Brock in for a brief hug, patting him twice on the back. “You’ll be alright, man.”

With his lips in a tight line, Brock shrugged as he faced the group, seemingly unsurprised by this outcome. When his dull eyes made their way to Bucky’s direction, Bucky flinched away, instinctively reaching for Steve’s leg.

Janet flipped to her last notecard. “Brock, I’m so sorry, but that means you have now been eliminated from the Island. We’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye.”

After her own few minutes of being on camera, a producer escorted Janet out of the villa, leaving the Islanders to fake their apologies and well-wishes, as they all rose to gather around Brock. Following the others’ leads, Bucky gave him a weak half-smile. “Best of luck.”

“Yeah,” Brock said, glancing over at Steve who refused to leave Bucky’s side. “You too.”

When Brock moved on to the next couple in his receiving/farewell line, Steve shook his head and muttered under his breath. “Dude gives me the fucking creeps.”

Bucky nodded and listened to how the others struggled to make up stories of attributes and memories of Brock that they’d miss around the Island; it was actually quite entertaining. With all ten of them packed into the foyer and Brock in the doorway, they were all mournful, bittersweet smiles and laughs, but as soon as he stepped out of the house, rolling his suitcase down the cobblestone pathway, the lies were replaced with silence and sighs of relief.

Summarizing the general consensus, Sam spoke up from the back of the group after Brock disappeared from view into the night. “Man, fuck that guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now everyone can let out a sigh of relief! Bye, Brock; you will not be missed.
> 
> You may have noticed a bit more emphasis on a sort-of new element, which is fashion. Fashion is not only something that I am passionate about, but it also a huge element in the show, so I definitely had to capture that in this story. Hopefully, all my other fashion fans will enjoy those little details too!
> 
> Thanks again for all the support and feedback! (I have to admit that reading the unbelievably kind comments yesterday made me a little misty-eyed 😅) I can't wait to see what you all have to say about this one, haha
> 
> Tomorrow's another fun one, and I'll throw in some extra tags to give you a hint 😜


	10. Chapter 10

**Episode 10**

“So, are you regretting your decision yet?” Steve asked when they sat together on the terrace.

It was a new space for Bucky that he had yet to explore. Off the side of Dressing Room #2, through the French doors, Bucky found himself on a small balcony that featured a bench that could only fit two, maybe three, people with plush cushions and throw pillows. The space was intimate and secluded and exactly where he wanted to be with Steve after the recoupling.

Overlooking the villa, Bucky traced the crisscross pattern of strings of exposed light bulbs that hung above the back deck, following the lines interspersed with golden, glowing orbs that contrasted against the silver specks in the matte black sky. “Not sure I had much of a decision. I think this was more your call.”

Steve tilted his head to the side, a little unimpressed but still patient. “You know what I mean.”

“I do, and I don’t regret anything. I guess I’m still just trying to figure out what you meant at the, uh, recoupling thing.”

“Everything,” Steve said immediately, without any hesitation, like he was insulted by the suggestion that he didn’t. “I meant everything I said back there. You are without a doubt the only person that I want to be doing this with, and I really am happy to be here. Like, being here is so incredibly-” He trailed off, gesturing frantically with his hands to fill the space as he chased the words before giving up with a laugh, shaking his head. “This is why I plan this shit in advance.”

“I knew it!” Bucky hissed, leaning forward. “I knew there was no way you were making that up on the spot. You may have fooled the others but not me.”

Playing along, Steve nodded but shrugged as he let his gaze settle over the edge of the balcony, correcting him with a humble brag, “ _Most_ of the others.”

Bucky followed his line of sight to where Riley was lying beside Sam on one of the day beds, pointing up at the stars. “Can’t charm them all.”

Steve scoffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s a funny story.”

“Riley?”

“Oh, yes. _Riley Jones_.” With a sigh, he shook his head and turned back to face Bucky, covering his mic with his hand. “I was completely against letting him on the show. I mean, the whole point of having a public vote in the finale is that everyone is on an equal playing-field in the beginning and the audience has the entire season to grow to love them. It’s not fair if someone already has millions of followers, while all the others are regular people. But network always gets the final say. Who cares about the opinion of the producer whose spent his entire career at this show? Six years doesn’t really stand a chance against six executives who only give a shit about the views.”

Bucky nodded, more than willing to listen to Steve rant about his job but also unable to keep himself from lightening the mood. “You’ve been producing a reality show for six years?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, unfazed. “And I’m damn good at it too. I predicted Tony and Pepper in the first episode of their season.” Bucky waited for an explanation, which Steve noticed with a smile. “If you were anyone else, you’d understand what that means and think I’m amazing.”

“Well,” Bucky said, unfazed. “I’m me. I don’t understand what that means, and I still think you’re pretty amazing.”

Although he could have relished in the flush of red that passed over Steve’s face for the rest of the night, Bucky spared a glance below to where Sam curled his fingers in Riley’s hair as they kissed lazily in the open. How easy it had been earlier that morning for Steve to wind his fingers through his own hair and how easy it would be for one of them to lean forward just that tiny inch more, closing the space filled with electricity and heat. They were close enough that Bucky could feel Steve’s breath on his lips, and he opened his mouth slightly to breathe it in before Steve leaned back with a sigh. “I’ll have to ask you again tomorrow if you still think I’m amazing after spending the night with me.”

Blinking away the haze and snapping back to reality, Bucky shrugged. “I can’t imagine spending the night with you could be any worse than Brock.”

Steve raised both of his hands. “I’ll admit that I’m a bit of a cuddler, but we should set those boundaries now.”

_Wow_ , Bucky thought, _boundaries. Already a thousand times better than Brock_. (Which was obvious by now.) “Yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t really mind that,” he said, laughing at his own words, “but I will definitely let you know if I ever get uncomfortable.”

“Likewise.” Steve smiled back, something sweet and lighthearted, and apparently also unsure of how to continue the conversation, he slowly rose from his seat. “I guess I’ll see you in there.”

Just barely, Bucky successfully managed to stifle his nervous laughter. “See you there.”

After watching Steve leave, closing the door behind himself as he entered the dressing room, Bucky groaned, rubbing his temples and internally cursing the giddy, giggling feeling in his core. _Christ_ , he entered the competition immediately ready to leave. Was he really crushing on some producer? Except, he wasn’t just some producer; he was a contestant now, and he was Bucky’s partner, who he would be spending the week getting to know better. Who he would be spending the night with. Who he would be spending the night with, starting _that night_.

He clutched his stomach and willed away the swarm of butterflies that fluttered there at that thought.

But the feeling never went away, following him to the bedroom where most of the other couples were already under the covers, talking quietly between themselves. On top of his own bed, he found Nat, lying on her side with her head propped on her hand, wearing silky PJ’s and a smirk. Steve must have still been getting ready. For Bucky, that process only consisted of washing his face, brushing his teeth, begging his damn racing heart to slow, and stripping down to his simple, black Calvin’s.

Nat gave him a blatant once-over, taking in his form, which Clint assented to with a low whistle from the bed beside them. “Someone’s excited to have a new boy in his bed,” Nat teased.

Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, realizing that he was gaining more attention than he anticipated from a few of the other Islanders. “Should I be wearing a shirt?”

“Absolutely not,” Nat instantly replied.

“Hell no,” someone else said at the same time. Bucky looked at the bed on the opposite side to see Val grinning back at him as she waited for Carol. “You look great.”

Nat agreed. “Steve’s a lucky guy.”

“Oh, I’m a _very_ lucky guy.”

Everyone looked to where Steve stood in the doorway, finding their heads turning on instinct, as if the gravity in the room had been shifted to center around the _~~cocky~~ confident bastard_. With his hair still damp and darkened, he simply stood there, somehow looking dangerous and lethal even while only wearing his mic, which dangled over his smooth chest, and white boxer-briefs that were short enough to show a peek of small, black script across his thigh. Like he was mocking and quenching everyone’s thirst, he took a sip of water from the clear, plastic bottle that bared his name on the side.

Bucky swallowed at the same time he did.

“You just gonna stand there all night?” Breaking the spell, Carol stepped out from behind Steve, shaking her head as she pushed past him. “You’re not the only buff blonde with a pretty brunette partner, you know.”

Val watched her climb into bed like Carol was the one who hung the thin crescent in the sky that night, and the others turned back to their own partners, instead of salivating over the man in the doorway. Joining Clint in her own bed, Nat made room for Bucky – _and_ Steve, who was finally crossing the room. That sense of nervousness wiggled its way back into Bucky’s body, tingling all the way to his fingertips, as his heart made its presence known yet again with Steve now only a foot away. Comfortingly, Steve must have been feeling it too, evident in his hesitation before they wordlessly decided on their sides of the bed: Bucky took the left, and Steve took the right.

Under the sheets, Bucky felt all of his nerves magnified, overthinking every gesture, unsure of where to put his hands when he rolled onto his side to face Steve. He placed one behind his head against the pillow and the other cautiously in the space between them. Steve mirrored his position, letting his hand fall daringly close to Bucky’s.

Taking in shallow breaths, Bucky watched, fascinated, as their fingers crept toward and away from each other’s, seemingly moving on their own volition. Bucky watched them the same way that he stared curiously at his own fingers pinching together when he was young, intrigued by how the shadows that appeared made it look like the pads of his fingertips were touching even when they were apart. Every time he did this with Steve, fingers intertwining without actually touching, sparks shot off into the air between them. An entire rainbow spectrum of color against the stark white sheets. Igniting a small fire that threatened to engulf their bodies in flames with the blankets trapping the heat. 

Suddenly, a cool gust of air rushed over Bucky, making him draw in a quick breath, when Steve removed his hand from beneath the covers to lie on his back. He placed his hands behind his head, conveniently flexing in the process, and Bucky instinctively sucked in another breath, feeling the pressure in his chest rise to a painful level of discomfort. Seemingly unaware, Steve let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “Well,” he said, titling his head toward Bucky, “here we are.”

“Here we are,” Bucky agreed, impressed to hear his voice make a sound.

Steve smiled – no teeth, just a simple raise of one corner of his lips. Those lips that looked even softer and pinker the closer they appeared… “What are you thinking?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to Steve’s eyes; beautiful, crystal blue peered back unassuming and welcoming. Before Bucky could formulate a response or get lost in those eyes forever, the preprogrammed lights switched off automatically, casting the room in the gray shadows of a black-and-white filter. Around them, the other Islanders chorused their goodnights to each other, as latecomers Thor and Riley trickled in to climb into their beds.

When the room settled into comfortable silence, subtly disturbed with soft whispers, Steve offered one of his own. “Guess I’ll have to ask you again in the morning.”

In the dark, Bucky could still see his easygoing grin, but a lingering hesitation appeared in his now-gray eyes, as if he wasn’t ready to close them. Bucky knew that his own eyes looked the same but still whispered, “Goodnight, Steve.”

“’Night, Bucky.”

They lie perfectly still like that for a few more moments, wishing to talk more, wishing to get closer, to _do_ so much more together before the end of the night, like they were being forced to go to bed at a sleepover. Bucky reminded himself that they would have more than enough time to talk the next day, to get closer the day after that, and to do so much more together for the entire week, because, as he was coming to realize, that was the basic premise of this show.

Still, as Steve was the first to cave and close his eyes, Bucky simply couldn’t follow his lead, unable to quiet the persistent thoughts that popped up in his mind. _What was he doing here? Was he really taking his position on the show seriously? Was he pursuing a relationship? Did he want that? Did Steve want that?_

As if he had heard the questions out loud, Steve rolled onto his side again, giving no indication that he was awake. With his chest rising and falling slowly, steadily, and his eyelashes curling against his cheeks, Steve reached into the space between them and found Bucky’s hand. Skin-to-skin, Bucky’s mind immediately flashed to white, as all of the pervasive questions seemed to be answered. His heartrate soon leveled out with Steve’s even pulse, and his eyes fell heavier and heavier. He finally felt comfortable enough to exhale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you got me, technically not cuddling just yet but still very, very close. (I promise we'll be getting there very, very soon.)
> 
> Thanks again for the support! Your comments/kudos truly warm my heart 😊
> 
> I am SO stoked to post tomorrow's episode. It's one that I am incredibly proud of; it's a challenge that's different, new, and fun and entirely my own creation, so I can't wait to share it with you! You definitely don't want to miss it 😉


	11. Chapter 11

**Episode 11**

In his dreams, Bucky felt warm. He felt safe and protected, held by strong arms, with one around his waist and the other beneath his head, acting as a pillow. He felt comforted by the rhythmic pacing of cool breaths grazing the back of his neck and the soft lips that were gently pressed there. Embracing it, embracing _him_ , Bucky pulled him closer, laying his own hand on top of the one curled at his hip and letting his head fall back against the sturdy chest behind him. He imagined himself relishing in the sensations of being wrapped so tightly in this unseen man’s arms, but he still knew exactly who was behind him.

_Steve_.

The name crossed his mind like reverent a sigh, like a ‘thank you’ and a prayer all in one. If he was a religious man, Bucky would be thanking God for His divine intervention in placing this glorious man in his bed, assuming that this is what heaven would be like. Warm and safe and soft and-

Bright. _Really fucking bright_.

Tossing an arm over his eyes, Bucky groaned. “Who the hell turned on the lights?”

“They turn on automatically,” a low, husky voice rumbled against the back of his neck.

_Oh_. As the hair on his arms rose from the deep reverberations that rushed down his spine, he realized in shock and horror and in excitement and comfort that his dream was far more lucid than he anticipated. Steve was holding him. Steve was _spooning_ him, and oh, it was actually better than his dreams. Despite how much he wanted to melt into that embrace as if he was still asleep, Bucky felt his entire body tense, lifting his head from the crook of Steve’s elbow.

“You okay?” Steve asked, immediately noticing his apprehension.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, and before he could second-guess and consider himself otherwise, he took a deep breath before bravely turning to his other side to face Steve. The dream turned reality. Now that it was dry, his hair returned to the lighter, golden color, looking fluffy and begging to be touched. Resisting the urge to reach out, Bucky cleared his throat instead. “Morning.”

“Hi there.” Steve smiled at him, like there was nothing else in the world that he would prefer to be looking at, like there was no one else in the world that we would prefer to wake up beside. Apparently unable to resist his own urges, Steve’s hand crept along their pillows, and he absentmindedly twirled a finger around a strand of Bucky’s hair. “How’d you sleep?”

Entranced by the scratchy but full-bodied quality of his voice, sinfully lowered in pitch, Bucky nearly forgot to reply. “Not bad. This might be the first time I’ve ever been comfortable in this bed.”

“Oh yeah? That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with me being here, would it?”

Without daring to break their eye contact, Bucky caught his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head, playing coy. That only made Steve’s sweet and innocent smile turn a shade darker, as his hand wound deeper into Bucky’s hair. “Wanna know how I slept?”

Bucky sighed at the feeling of those long fingers brushing against his neck, and he allowed his jaw to rest on Steve’s palm, eyes fluttering closed, humoring him, “How’d you sleep?”

Before Steve could respond, a dreadful noised sounded throughout the room that caused everyone else to turn to the center where Steve’s phone continued to chime on the nightstand. “Fuck,” Steve muttered under his breath, so close that his breath ghosted his lips, sending a chill down Bucky’s body. Sitting up against the headboard, Bucky pulled the comforter up to his neck after Steve pulled apart from him, pinching the bridge of his nose as he raised the screen to his face. “Got a text,” he announced the rest of the onlookers, seeming unenthused.

“Sleep well?” Nat whispered from between their beds, a familiar devilish glint in her eyes, and Bucky rolled his own, looking back to Steve who began to read the text out loud.

“Islanders, don your capes and masks, and prepare to save the day, as you rescue your partners in distress in today’s challenge: Superhero Sweep. #Islanders-Assemble #L.I.C.U. (Love Island Cinematic Universe)”

[ _Oh, I’m excited about this one, folks. It’s our first obstacle course, thinly veiled as a demanding physical challenge, while giving us the chance to admire the pretty twenty-somethings in mesh crop tops and booty shorts. I mean – admire the pretty view of the rolling hills and grassy valleys in the distance._ ]

[ _Obviously._ ]

[ _It starts with our Hero breaking down the door to infiltrate the Bad Guy’s lair; a good kick or punch should do it, demonstrating their superhuman strength in the meantime. On the other side of the door, they’ll strike a pose. (I’d recommend the classic puffed chest, hands on the hips, but that might just be me.)_ ]

[ _Next, we move on to the carnival games portion of the event, where our Hero is given a stack of dinner-plate-sized, patriotic Frisbees with the goal of bowling over the evil Henchmen. (Some of you may say that those are just paper towel rolls with frowny faces drawn on them, but hey, how else do you think we cut costs to afford Janet Van Dyne’s royalty checks?)_ ]

[ _After our Hero manages to knock over all six, they’ll move on to the agility portion in which they’ll step in and out of tires while dodging bullets (water balloons) shot by (thrown by) the remaining Henchmen (other Islanders)._ ]

[ _If our Hero survives this treacherous gauntlet of the infinity kind, they will lastly be tasked with rescuing their damsel, who’s blindfolded, bound by rope, gagged, and before this gets too X-rated for network TV, they’ll untie the knots and sweep their partner off their feet in a passionate kiss. The Islander to complete the course with the fastest time and most style will win the challenge. (And if we all did our jobs right, no one will be sued by a multi-million-dollar media company, and_ you _, dear audience member, won’t be too distracted by the fourth-wall-breaking, meta implications.)_ ]

[ _Shall we begin? Our first Hero is feeling confident._ ]

“Well, this is degrading,” Bucky told blocks of red foam in front of him, arranged in a doorframe. To his left were the camera crew, and to his right was the rest of the course, along with the other Islanders and Steve. _Poor Steve._ Compared to being forced to wear a sleeping mask, straitjacket of synthetic rope, and bandana ball gag by his coworkers, Bucky could make do with short shorts and a little body oil.

“Whenever you’re ready,” a producer with a clipboard said, checking something off his list.

Bucky faced the wall of foam again with a sigh. He had taken a kickboxing class with Nat, which in retrospect, may have only been an excuse for her to beat the shit out of him in an acceptable format, but he still remembered the basics. Raising his fists to a basic fighting stance, he pushed his pride to the back of his mind, as he decided the best plan of attack. He took a step back, and with a swift roundhouse kick, he knocked down most of the blocks, showing off a healthy amount of thigh as his leg swung through the air. Someone whistled; _not Steve_. Pushing the remaining blocks down with his hands, he stepped through the doorframe and was ready to step onto the next track of the course before he was interrupted.

“ _Pose_ , Barnes!” a familiar voice reminded him, and he rolled his eyes.

Showing Nat his middle fingers, he asked, “How’s that?”

She cackled as he picked up the first Frisbee. _Christ_ , the last time he held one of these plastic disks must have been during his undergrad years when he had an outdoorsy roommate who insisted on physical activity as a study break during finals week. Finding his grip on the edge, he gave a few practice swings, light snaps of his wrist, before letting it fly. Along with the rest of the Islanders, he watched the breeze catch it and force it to veer right, knocking over one of the props before flying off course entirely and then tumbling down the hill.

He internally apologized to the intern that would be chasing after all of the Frisbees by the time he hit all six.

Somewhat impressed with his Frisbeeing skills and knowing that ol’ college Andy would be proud, it only took three others tossed down the hill until he was standing before the tires. Steve stood at the end of the row, looking pitiful, and lining the tires in between, the other Islanders stood poised, eagerly holding their ammunition. “Before we start,” Bucky began, resting a foot on the first tire and locking eyes with Nat who was already taking aim, “remember that I’m switching places with you next.”

Sprinting, he hoped to outrun the balloons but was almost instantly proven wrong with one crashing against his back. Thrown off his rhythm, he briefly stumbled but regained his balance, pushing forward. Something about being pelted by water balloons triggered a deep survival instinct. Invigorating and energizing him with the thrill of this ridiculous chase, as if the cool water had sunk into his veins. With one final balloon bursting across his face, something about the perfect aim telling him that it belonged to Nat, he hopped out of the last tire.

Apparently, crossing the white duct tape line on the deck signaled the onslaught to stop, allowing him to catch his breath. He felt like a mess and probably looked even worse with water dripping down his nose, half of his hair falling out of its bun, and not-so-silently wheezing. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped the cardio portion of his last few workouts, after all.

But his appearance didn’t matter – partly because Steve was blindfolded – but also because making Steve un-blindfolded was his main priority now. Sputtering a cough into his elbow and wishing that a pair of headphones was added to Steve’s accessories, Bucky started with the restraints around his wrists, loose knots that would have been easy to untie if his hands weren’t soaking _fucking wet_. He wiped his hands on his equally-wet shorts, but finally, thankfully, his next attempt allowed the rope handcuffs to fall onto the ground in a heap. Now freed, Steve’s hands flew to Bucky’s arms, gripping his biceps to hold him close. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Bucky stripped off the eye mask and greeted him with a smile. “Hi there.”

For obvious reasons, Steve didn’t respond, but his eyes, that sweet familiar blue, said plenty. Steve looked past his disheveled appearance, past the other contestants who were looking over on their tip toes, past the cameras and the friends and colleagues that he had known for years; Steve looked past all of it to look at Bucky alone, like he was the only person that mattered in that moment.

(Bucky was thankful that he had an excuse to be breathless.)

With his hands free and eyes uncovered, that left one article for Bucky to remove. He hooked his fingers into the bandana in Steve’s mouth and pulled it over his head. As if starting to respond, Steve opened his mouth, lips flushed from the fabric brushing over them, but he stayed silent, almost as breathless as Bucky. Steve’s eyes never left his face, focused and fond. Bucky traded his own focus back and forth between Steve’s eyes and lips, blue and pink complementing each other like the cotton candy sky at sunset. For a few moments, seconds, minutes, maybe hours, they stayed like that, exchanging circular breaths, breathing each other in and out, and savoring all of it.

Until it clicked in Bucky’s mind what they were supposed to be doing. He locked eyes with Steve one final time with an eager unspoken question, and Steve replied with an emphatic unspoken answer.

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure who initiated the kiss. Steve held his face between his hands, tilting his chin up that extra inch, and Bucky allowed his arms to easily find their place around Steve’s neck. Despite its imperfections, namely the balloon shrapnel stuck to Bucky’s skin while he still struggled to catch his breath, as well as this whole event taking place in front of mostly strangers and being broadcast to the country, it was a perfect first kiss.

It wasn’t a perfect kiss.

_God no_ , it was a little hesitant on both sides, particularly as a result of Bucky attempting to suppress another cough, but it was a perfect _first_ kiss. There was plenty of energy behind it, sparks of electricity crackling up and down Bucky’s spine every time their lips brushed together, like every drop of cold water splashing his back, exhilarating him and making him want more. It was the kind of kiss that held the promise that they would be doing this again. And again. _And_ again until they knew every millimeter of movement that would flip the world upside down, make them see new colors, and set each other on fire.

Feeling Steve start to pull away, Bucky followed him, chasing his lips and refusing to break the connection so soon. Bucky felt the corners of Steve’s lips curl upward against his own before separating. Once his eyes slowly fluttered open, he couldn’t help but smile back at Steve, feeling just as warm as the sun that radiated over them both.

The applause burst the bubble that forced Bucky to crash back down to Earth. With his mind preoccupied on kissing Steve (and not disgustingly wheezing into his mouth), he hadn’t heard the other Islanders clapping and screaming. Braving their response, Bucky turned to face them with one arm trailing down Steve’s back to wrap around his waist. Bucky noticed Nat first, whose eyes were burning through his soul, expression reading something along the lines of _told-you-so_ , and he blushed or, perhaps, just realized that he had been blushing. The other Islanders’ reactions ranged between excited, intrigued, and maybe even a little jealous.

“Two minutes and thirty-four seconds!” Val announced, holding up a stopwatch, because _right_ , this had been all been a challenge.

And a damn good one at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo, we love a good fourth-wall-breaking challenge! 😂
> 
> After 11 days and about 30k words, shout out to these boys for finally getting their smooch on! 😅
> 
> Please feel free to let me know all your thoughts in the comments below; I absolutely adore reading your feedback, so thank you so much! 
> 
> 🎧 "Superlove" - Don Broco (This episode deserves a GOOD song, and this awesome song/band would have to play in the background of this challenge - fun, upbeat, funky, has "super" in the title, perfect, and leading up to that perfect first kiss)
> 
> See you tomorrow for Superhero Sweep Pt. 2 and some cute chats! 🏝


	12. Chapter 12

**Episode 12**

With Steve by his side, Bucky immediately felt more comfortable in this particular challenge. Throwing water balloons at his competitors definitely helped, but the ability to slide over to his gorgeous partner, who instinctively tucked him into his embrace, was unparalleled. They could laugh together at Val as she threw yet another disc off of the deck, nowhere near the desired target – clearly a tennis player, not Ultimate Frisbee. Feeling Steve’s chuckle rumble through his side, Bucky realized that he could live in that space forever.

Naturally, that carefree mindset couldn’t last forever, and the universe’s interruption came in the form of a super-tall supermodel. In between rounds, while the college-aged interns ran around resetting the course, Riley approached Bucky and Steve who were laughing at Thor who was picking out pieces of green and purple balloons from his hair. “Lord, you two are unreal together,” he said with one hand fidgeting at the end of one of the braids that framed his face.

Unsure of how to respond to that compliment, Bucky felt thankful to have Steve on his arm to take the lead. “Please, it’s all this guy. If you want a couple so beautiful it’s hard to believe, just take a look at Sam and yourself.”

“Why, thank you.” There was something manufactured about his response, like his smile was fueled by an artificial sweetener that started with an X and had a million syllables on the ingredients list. Clearly, it was a response that he had been giving for a while, practically a part of his job description at this point, which Bucky assumed was sort of accurate. “Now, y’all can’t be tellin’ me that was your first kiss.”

Steve nodded. “Believe it or not.”

“No way.” Resting a hand over his heart, Riley shook his head. “It looked like you two had been together forever. It was _stunning_. Like I would never want my own first kiss to be a challenge kiss, but you two made it so special.”

Before Bucky could ask for clarification but definitely after feeling offended, a producer called for them to take their places after Clint, the next victim, had been blindfolded, gagged, and bound. For the first task, Nat took a similar approach to Bucky, knocking down the blocks with a high kick but looking far more graceful, keeping her angles and planes as if on stage. She did a pirouette for the camera on the other side, and the others applauded. Her Frisbee-throwing lacked finesse in comparison, but she still managed to hit all six pins in only two attempts. Seeming hardly affected by the water balloons, she weaved comfortably in and out of the tires, light feet essentially made for this competition. Even when Bucky (totally unintentionally) aimed for her face and it splashed against her chest, Nat pushed forward and easily hopped over the line, finishing strong with her arms triumphantly in the air. She quickly untied the knots, ripped off the blindfold, undid the bandana, and with little effort, she pulled Clint into a kiss, leaning back to literally lift him off his feet.

The other Islanders looked amazed or surprised, but Bucky had seen her achieve far more impossible feats. Instead, he grinned contentedly, watching Clint’s reaction and how he appeared shocked at first, eyes popping open before closing and melting into her embrace with whole-hearted trust.

When they pulled away, Clint kissed her again on her forehead, on her nose, on both cheeks, on her chin. With a noise Bucky had never heard her make when they were alone together, Nat _giggled_ , pushing him away but pulling him closer at the same time.

(If Nat could so openly and honestly display her feelings for Clint, the guy who she would refuse to fall for and throw popcorn at in another life, Bucky had no reason to keep making excuses for how his heart swelled and stomach swooped, no matter how cliché, when he was in Steve’s presence.)

“Two-fifteen!” Val declared, thankfully interrupting Bucky’s inner-monologue before it spiraled completely out of control.

To celebrate the fastest time, Nat lifted Clint again from the side, and the other Islanders cheered. “First kiss?” someone asked.

Nat shook her head and aimed a wink at Bucky. “Not quite.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, and reminding himself that they slept in adjacent beds, he didn’t really want to ask.

Unfortunately, Nat’s dainty footwork was no match to Sam, who ran the course like Riley was actually in danger. Sam shoved through the foam, sending the blocks flying into the air, off the side of the deck and past the camera crew, forcing producers to jump out of the way. In a truly show-stopping move, he bowled over the paper towel rolls in a single throw, as if he had been destined to wield the symbolic shield. Effortlessly, he hopped in and out of the tires, hardly noticing the balloons that burst across his back and chest. With his head down, eyes narrowed, it was clear that his only concern was Riley, who he immediately swept off of his feet once the restraints were ripped off. Their kiss was passionate, excited with plenty of chemistry, but still very sweet – very _them_.

Sam held him bridal-style after finding out their two-oh-six time and spun them in circles after Riley received the following text: “Congratulations, Riley and Sam! For winning today’s challenge, you will be staying in The Hideaway tonight!”

The others screamed and applauded for them and their reward.

Bucky waited until he was lying beside Steve on one of the daybeds back at the villa. “What’s The Hideaway?”

Steve smirked, apparently revealing the humor in the innocuous question. “So, it’s the, uh, _private_ bedroom next to the living room. Relatively soundproof. Stocked with all kinds of–”

“Got it,” Bucky said after being painted a perfectly-clear and disappointing picture.

“What? Red satin sheets stained with questionable substances that get changed for course-credit by a college senior doesn’t do it for you?”

Bucky snorted. “Not exactly.”

“Once upon a time, that was my job,” Steve said, resting an arm behind his head, reminiscing fondly. “Now it’s Little Pete’s. Poor kid.”

Thinking back to the game, Bucky wondered which one of the interns he had been, reminding himself of another aspect of the challenge that was still gnawing away at the back of his mind. “What did Riley mean by our first kiss being a ‘challenge kiss’?”

Sighing, Steve nodded. “Okay, so there’s this weird hierarchy that contestants assign to different interactions on the show. Essentially, anything a couple does in a challenge, like a kiss, is seen as less meaningful than if they had done it on their own. So, kissing me outside of the challenge without being prompted would have been considered more legit than kissing me during the challenge.”

“Oh.” Bucky felt his heart drop, mind swirling with second-thoughts. “Should I not have kissed you?”

“What? God, no. That ‘challenge kiss’ bullshit means nothing. Regardless of the context, a kiss is a kiss if there’s meaning behind it. I, for one, quite,” he smiled, ducking his head, “ _enjoyed_ our kiss.”

Feeling warmth flush to his face, Bucky realized that Steve’s blush was contagious. “Oh, yeah?”

“Of course. And, I mean, it’s not like we wouldn’t have done that outside of the challenge. Christ, I’ve been waiting to kiss you since the first day we met.”

That comment certainly made Bucky pause. “Really?”

As if he had only then realized what he admitted, Steve paused as well before continuing without hesitation. “I’ll be honest with you: there have been people every single season that made moves or flirted or caught my eye, but every single time, I never acted on it. I refused to overstep that boundary. I never wanted to take advantage of my position or someone else, and selfishly, I would have never done anything to jeopardize the career that I worked so hard for.”

“Absolutely,” Bucky said, but Steve wasn’t finished.

“For you, though? I would have thrown all of that away if you asked. I couldn’t believe that someone so beautiful and intelligent was actually on the show, and we got along so well. We’d known each other for two days, and you were already forcing me to share my coffee with you.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky still smiled. “I didn’t _force_ you to do anything.”

“Uh huh,” Steve said with a smirk. “That’s why I _bought_ you coffee instead. And why I’m here. Why I bothered joining the show, why I picked you in the recoupling, and why I’m so fucking glad you kissed me during today’s challenge.”

Bucky couldn’t tell if he was purposefully holding his breath, but he knew one thing for certain: “I’m so glad I kissed you too.”

Expecting Steve to close the distance between them, capitalizing on this perfect moment, Bucky gently closed his eyes only to hear, “Roth IRA or straight?”

Eyes immediately opening, Bucky asked, “What?”

“Since you were asking all these questions about things related to _my_ job, I figured I could ask you one about yours.”

Bucky scoffed but nodded along. “Alright, so you want to go Roth for as long as you can when you’re young and your tax bracket is low, but once you start making a considerable income, you should switch to a traditional IRA and consider more heavily investing in your stocks or mutual fund.”

Leaning closer, Steve laughed, allowing his hand to rest along Bucky’s jaw. “I love it when you talk dirty to me, baby.”

With a low, self-affirming hum, Bucky closed his eyes again, allowing himself to be pulled back into Steve’s orbit. “Buy low, sell high, sweetheart.”

Finally, finally, _finally_ , Steve minimized the last gap between them in a kiss that was just as meaningful as the one they had shared earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a cute challenge, a cute kiss, a little shade, AND valuable personal economics advice? Gotta love it 😅
> 
> As always, your feedback means the absolute world to me, so feel free to drop a kudos or comment! 
> 
> We have SO many more sweet and fun and silly and (eventually) steamy things coming up, so I hope to see you here back on the Island tomorrow! 😋


	13. Chapter 13

**Episode 13**

In one day, in short succession, Bucky realized three important truths about this reality show and life in general. First, falling asleep in a communal bedroom was far more enjoyable when he could wake up beside a person he deemed unfathomably attractive. Second, kissing an unfathomably attractive person right before falling asleep and immediately after waking up was even more enjoyable. But, third: kissing an unfathomably attractive person who was willing to sacrifice his entire career for him? Unbeatable.

After being shocked awake by the automatic lights again, Bucky gladly welcomed the consolation of warm lips against his own. Noticing a missing mass of weight and warmth beside him, he realized a bit late that Steve was out of bed, leaning over the side. Bucky blinked the sleep from his eyes to make the fuzzy image in front of him come into focus. Dressed in a tight t-shirt and shorts with his hair mussed, like he had just finished a workout, Steve held out a mug for him to take.

“What’s this?” Bucky asked, sitting up against their shared pillows and cradling the almost-too-hot ceramic. Blowing on the steam, he could immediately smell that it was coffee. Still, the eager expression that lingered behind Steve’s eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed made the question valid.

“Our conversation last night reminded me of another little Love Island idiom that you’ve missed out on so far,” he explained. “Making your partner coffee or tea in the morning is a typical way to impress them, so I figured since I’m well-versed in your usual Starbucks order, I might as well treat you to something less branded.”

Noticing Nat looming in the doorway from the kitchenette to the bedroom, watching him raise the mug to his lips, Bucky hesitated before taking a sip. He cocked his head when he turned back to Steve. “Should I be concerned?”

Steve shook his head, seeming perfectly trustworthy. “Not at all.”

As soon as the coffee hit his taste buds, however, Bucky wondered if there was a possibility that he was still asleep, unsure if something this _sweet_ could exist in reality. It was so sweet that it no longer even resembled something edible, leaving a bitter, metallic taste that burned his tongue and hurt his teeth. “Steve, what did you do?”

Joining them, Nat climbed onto the foot of the bed. “Don’t blame him too much. It was more my idea.”

“It technically started out as my idea,” Steve said. “I woke up early to do a quick workout, and while I was making myself breakfast, I decided to make coffee for you too. Then, along came a spider.”

Nat smirked. “I asked if he knew how you took your coffee, and he said–”

“Sweet. But she corrected me–”

“ _Deathly_ sweet. Which made me think of a scientific experiment: How Sweet is Too Sweet?”

Shyly, Steve ran a hand through his hair and averted his gaze from Bucky, admitting, “I lost track around six spoonfuls.”

“I was convinced it still wasn’t enough, but turns out I was wrong.” She gestured to the mug that Bucky was holding tentatively, like it was radioactive, before shooting a pointed glance at Steve. “Don’t get used to that.”

“ _I_ , on the other hand, hypothesized that you would find this concoction repulsive, which is why I made you this.” Reaching over to their nightstand, Steve seemingly procured another mug out of thin air and exchanged it for the poison in Bucky’s loose grasp. “Three sugars, two creams.”

As he now expected, Bucky savored the perfect balance of bitter coffee, sweet sugar, and smooth cream, but he noted something else, a slight addition, subtle but pleasant. _Coffee, sugar, cream, and..._ “Hazelnut?”

“I had a hunch you might like that.”

Bucky took another sip and smiled over the rim of the mug. “Well, your hunch was correct.”

“You’re welcome,” Nat muttered, not-too-quietly, to Steve.

Steve simply focused his attention on Bucky, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’m gonna take a shower and get ready. See you outside?”

Licking the taste of coffee off his lips, Bucky nodded and watched him leave the room. When the door closed, Nat climbed closer to him on the bed, sitting beside him over the covers, as if taking Steve’s place. She took the mug from his hands without asking, grimacing as she took a sip. “If you don’t like that, try the other one,” Bucky said and took it back before she could mock him further. He eyed her skeptically in the same manner that he looked at the first coffee. “I’m not sure how I feel about you two being so friendly already. Scheming against me.”

Nat grinned with no teeth, but her round cheeks made the gesture seem totally innocent. Her next statement seemed equally-so. “I like him.”

Bucky looked down at the coffee, where the cream still swirled along the surface from Steve stirring it just how he liked it, and admitted quietly, “I like him too.”

The hushed atmosphere suddenly reminded him of late nights spent talking about high school crushes while their AP Calc notes laid sprawled out, untouched on the dining room table. “He likes you too, you know.”

“You think so?”

Bucky could see the strain in her eyes as she prevented them from rolling. “Why else would he ask me what ‘flavored syrup’ you’d prefer?”

The mental image alone of Steve in the kitchenette anxiously juggling bottles of caramel and vanilla Torani made him smile. “And then that’s when you convinced him to poison me?”

“Please, he didn’t even want to do it. Partnered with you for one whole day, and he’s already whipped.”

“He probably just doesn’t want to get a cavity from making out with me later.”

Her eyes flashed a shade darker. “Yeah, how’s that going?”

“Can’t really complain. He’s not too much of a challenge to kiss.”

“I’m sure,” she said and turned to their left to where Clint was still sleeping soundly, hugging the comforter tightly with one leg hanging over the side.

Nat sighed, and Bucky rested his head against her shoulder. “I like your ‘him’ too, by the way.”

Still watching her partner, Nat idly ran a hand through Bucky’s hair while he continued to nurse his coffee. “We got lucky,” she said, and Bucky agreed.

At the island of the kitchenette, Bucky was greeted with the sight of the couple who had actually _gotten lucky_.

The other Islanders welcomed Sam and Riley back from their private excursion with unsubtle cheers, knowing looks, and waggling eyebrows. Even in a worn, oversized t-shirt that reached his thighs with his hair haphazardly falling out of a lazy half-bun, curling with kinks and knots every which way, Riley stood tall and elegant, ready to grace the cover of one of Becca’s magazines, and Sam looked at him the same way. They separated from each other’s sides with Riley staying in the kitchenette with Val, Carol, and Wanda and Sam being called over to the porch swing with Thor, Clint, and Nat.

Washing the mugs in the sink, Bucky found himself in the middle of Riley’s posse, much too far away from Steve who was still in the house. Val rushed to Riley’s side, leading him to sit down at the head of the table with Carol and Wanda on each side. “How did it go?” she asked, still holding onto his arm when they took their seats.

Riley shook his head and looked down at the white veneer of the picnic table, laying on the Scarlett O’Hara accent extra thick, “A respectable lady would never kiss and tell.”

Val appeared unimpressed and unmoving. “Well, thank god you’re neither respectable nor a lady, so tell us everything.”

With little convincing, Riley leaned closer to the girls around the table, spilling the details in half-hushed, half-normal tones. Technically not a part of the conversation, Bucky tried not to eavesdrop but couldn’t help hearing the words “heavy petting” and “spooning,” immediately wishing he hadn’t. If he heard the word “intimate” one more time, he thought he might spontaneously combust.

Bucky felt the luckiest of all when Steve exited the villa, wearing nothing but hot pink swim trunks that clashed with Bucky’s red ones. Steve cocked his head toward the pool, and Bucky joined him on a daybed beside it. When his back hit the pillows, Bucky sighed. “Thank you for rescuing me from that.”

“It’s the least I can do to make up for this morning,” Steve said, slipping a pair of designer sunglasses, borrowed from the shared closet, over his bashful eyes.

Bucky used his own from home, cheap plastic from a 7/11 before a daytrip with Nat, but they blocked out the sun just fine. “I guess I was only a little surprised that we’re already at the pranking stage of our relationship.”

“Oh.” Not even Gucci-branded polycarbonate could cover the surprise in Steve’s eyes. “Our ‘relationship’?”

“Well, of course.” Keeping himself from breaking out in a wide grin, Bucky leaned into the joke. “You kissed me yesterday, right? Doesn’t that make you my boyfriend?”

Steve’s lips parted as he appeared to catch on. “Right, right, of course. I’ve been waiting for a good label to tell my mother.”

“And mine has been asking when you’ll pop the question.”

“How about tomorrow?” Steve suggested.

“Perfect. We’ll have the wedding in December.”

“And kids by August.”

Bucky laughed, feeling it bubble out of his throat before he could stop it, a short hideous noise that he would have been embarrassed to make in front of anyone else if it weren’t for Steve’s own ugly chortling. There was something so comforting about sharing a genuine laugh with someone he felt so fondly toward, something about not being afraid to bare one’s vulnerabilities and embracing the contorted faces and squeaky, breathy noises. It was so… (dammit, Riley) _intimate_.

And being in this moment, underneath a beautiful, cloudless sky, beside the rippling, crystal water of the pool and this wonderful, dreamlike man, Bucky knew that feeling had to do with something far more powerful than Nat’s luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PRANKS!! Idk why this is such a common Love Island thing, but there's always a harmless prank between couples every season, and that just seems like a very Stucky thing to carry over. We also got a nice, friendly Bucky and Nat interaction, a bit more info about America's Next Top Southern Belle, and another cute, flirty conversation between our two faves. 
> 
> Feel free to let me know all your thoughts in the comments; getting those email notifications are truly the highlight of my day 😅
> 
> Coming up next...We'll be continuing the fun and flirty summer vibes as these two keep getting to know each other 😊


	14. Chapter 14

**Episode 14**

“Alright, I can already feel myself baking,” Steve said a few moments after the laughter had ceased, slowing and returning in waves but falling into comfortable silence. “Can you hand me one of those bottles?”

Bucky followed his finger to the bottles of sunscreen that were neatly stacked on each end table between every daybed. “‘Course. What’s your flavor?”

“Whatever the highest number is.”

Scoffing, Bucky handed him the highest one. “How’s SPF 75?”

Steve shrugged. “I’d prefer 100, but I can make do. I’ll reapply in half an hour.”

“I wasn’t planning on swimming.”

“Neither was I,” Steve said, popping the cap and starting to rub the cream over his shoulders.

With mild amusement and jaw-dropping interest, Bucky watched the lotion disappear into his sculpted biceps and forearms with bulging veins, across his taut chest and over his chiseled abs, and before drool started to form at the corner of his mouth, Bucky forced himself to speak. “You’re not joking about this, are you?”

“Unfortunately not. If I don’t take this seriously, my whole body will be the same color as my shorts in about five minutes.”

Speaking of, Steve moved on to his legs, paying particular attention to the blue-black text on his right thigh. Curious, Bucky asked, “What’s that?”

Steve continued to move down his legs. “A tattoo.”

Apparently, he didn’t want to talk about it, but Bucky still did, pressing yet willing to back off if needed. “Of what?”

Steve sighed, tossing the bottle into the space between them and turning his head to face Bucky. “If I tell you, promise me you won’t laugh.”

“Of course not. Why would I laugh?”

“Because I got it when I was 21, and it’s stupid.”

“So? Everyone gets a stupid tattoo when they’re 21. I didn’t, but I definitely had ideas for one.”

Rubbing his knuckles along the script, Steve took a deep breath before starting to explain. “Okay, so when I was in film school, I realized that I wanted to focus on making documentaries. Capturing real life, taking a stance, and saying something important. Obviously, one of the most influential documentarians is Ken Burns, so I really wanted a tattoo of one of his quotes to remind me to keep pursuing my dream even when it got tough. So I went with this one.” He cleared his throat and shifted on the daybed, slightly raising one leg of his shorts to show him. “It’s the second half of his quote, ‘The flame is not out, but–”

_it is flickering_

Those three simple words adorned his thigh in an artist’s loose, flowing cursive. “Huh,” Bucky said. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Steve leaned back, facing Bucky.

“Yeah, I really do. I think it’s nice that it’s something so clearly personal and important to you, and I love that. I don’t think that’s anything to be embarrassed about.”

“I appreciate that.” The smile that slowly spread across Steve’s face had the same radiating power as the sun that warmed them both. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“Of course. You’re welcome to show me your stupid tattoos any day.”

Steve let out a single huff of a laugh. “I only have the one, but you’ll definitely be the first person I show the second.”

The thought of that notion actually being true, imagining that one day he would receive a text from Steve with an attached mirror selfie showing off his new ink, made him match Steve’s smile and offer a hypothetical promise of his own. “Once I get it done, I will gladly show you my first.”

“It’d be an honor,” Steve said, voice low, both quiet and deep in his throat. The voice that Bucky learned he used late at night and early in the morning. He spoke like that right before leaning forward, eyes closing, and-

“I got a text!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Steve grumbled through a sigh.

Only mere millimeters from his face, Bucky could feel Steve’s hot breath against his mouth, could taste the fresh mint of his toothpaste and smell the pine of his aftershave. Teasing Steve _and_ himself, Bucky forced himself to pull away. “Come on,” he said. “Can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

“Not yet.”

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s nape, pulling him quickly into the kiss that they both deserved. The surprised noise that escaped Bucky’s mouth morphed into a shameful groan at the feeling of Steve’s tongue sliding past his bottom lip. Before Bucky could introduce his own, Steve leaned back and stood up from the daybed, leaving Bucky to stare up at him, dumbfounded. “Come on,” Steve said with a smirk, extending his hand. “Can’t keep ‘em waiting, huh?”

_Asshole_ , Bucky thought with a grin but gladly chased after him to the pool deck.

The rest of the group gathered around Thor whose booming voice broke the news from his cellphone. He continued to read, “Thor and Wanda, prepare to leave the villa for your first dates with Scott and Maria! #Second-Chances #Friendship-Couple-No-More”

With that, Thor dropped his phone and lifted Wanda into the air with one arm, screaming into the sky while the others celebrated with him.

A text that didn’t concern Bucky or Steve meant that they could – well, return to exactly what they were doing. “Did you know that was going to happen?” Bucky asked as they walked back over to the daybeds.

Steve slid onto the same one that they had been on before. “The text?”

“Yeah. Do you know all the events ahead of time they’ll throw at us?”

“In a way,” Steve said. “I mean, I helped to create some of them. We spend a whole two weeks in the winter locked in a boardroom, throwing out hundreds of challenge ideas onto a whiteboard, and then we narrow it down from there. I knew the order of events for the first week when I was still producing, but with it being up in the air as to whether or not I would be a contestant, they kept the rest of season private.”

More intrigued than bothered, Bucky asked, “What about the new contestants? Do you know who they are?”

“Vaguely. We go through so many applications and cast more people than we need in case people can’t make it or have to leave early. There’s a good chance I’ll recognize their faces, but it’s not like that would be much of an advantage. And same with the challenges, I don’t know who they’ll be bringing on or when, so I’m in the same boat as everyone else.”

“Cool.” Bucky nodded, and Steve hummed in agreement. As he seemed fond of doing, he twirled a strand of Bucky’s hair around his finger before letting it go and doing the same with another piece. Going pliant, Steve seemed willing to answer as many questions as Bucky wanted as long as his hand could remain tangled in Bucky’s hair. Bucky tossed more over his shoulder to take advantage of the opportunity. “Do you feel like a contestant yet, or do you still feel like a producer?”

Weaving a few strands in between his fingers, almost braiding it with one hand, Steve appeared to ponder the question for a moment. “A little bit of both. I think I’m starting to get into the rhythm of being a contestant, but there’s a part of my brain that I don’t think I can ever turn off that’s always watching the other couples, wanting to get involved and make something happen or recommend a shot to Dernier.”

“Is that handlebar mustache?”

“No,” Steve said with a laugh. “That’s Dum Dum, and before you ask, it’s a long story that started before my time. Dernier is the French bastard over there.” Bucky followed his finger to where the man was stationed in the corner, talking to other members of the crew. “He’s been with the show since the first season and helped bring it the states. Pain in the ass and still kind of a toss-up on if he likes me, but nothing but respect for the guy.”

“Who’s that with him?”

“On his right is Jones. He confused me for a contestant instead of an intern on my first day, and ever since, he’s been one of the biggest proponents of me being on the show. Even before we got the official word that I would be on this season, he put me down for his final couple.”

Bucky felt his eyebrows raise above the sunglasses. “With whom?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve chuckled. Bucky still worried about it, but that slight nagging sensation was overshadowed by the comfort he felt in leaning into Steve’s side as he toyed with his hair and pointed out his coworkers. “On his left is Monty Falsworth. He’s mostly in charge of props and decorations, especially for the dates. He lit all those candles on the wall behind us on our date, set the table with the nice pressed tablecloth and minimalist centerpieces. The way he can arrange flowers in a vase is truly an art form in itself.

“And then, currently running sound, listening to all this, is Jim Morita, so I’ll only mention the nice things. I definitely won’t bring up how he cheats at cards or is always the first person at the dessert table at craft services to get the good cookies before anyone else. No, he’s a great guy and is amazing at what he does. If I had to listen to ASMR of couples locking lips 24/7, I think I would have quit years ago.”

Bucky laughed and sent a mental apology to Jim Morita. “So, where did you fit in with this group?”

“Obviously, I was the one who actually interacted with the contestants. Something about me being the youngest helped me connect the best, building that rapport that would encourage you guys to share with me your deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked. “People really confess their crimes to you?”

“Listen, I knew you for _one day_ , and you were already making me your accomplice to attempted murder.”

Bucky playfully shoved his side. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.”

Nudging him back, Steve apparently had an excuse to hold him a bit closer. “You’re right, I think that technically qualified as conspiracy to commit murder. Isn’t that right, Esquire?”

Taken aback by the sudden cross examination, Bucky was reminded of his mock trial days. _Oh_ , he could easily picture Steve as the smooth prosecutor who always had his scripts and statements memorized to a T and could think on his feet for snappy comebacks to any objection. As the defense attorney, Bucky knew that he would be a nightmare to face in the courtroom but a daydream to get to know outside of the game, to get to know alone. To get out of a cut and tailored suit? _Oof_ , Bucky could gladly picture that image.

“What are you thinking?” Steve asked, as if he could read his mind.

Resting his head on Steve’s chest, Bucky simply shook his head with a small grin. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bucky felt himself slowly drifting in and out of a floating headspace, practically falling asleep to the even strokes of Steve’s fingers through his hair, occasionally scratching his scalp to ground him back down on the planet. Every time that he let his eyes flutter open, Bucky looked for Nat, something about still being in this somewhat-unknown environment making him search for a piece of familiarity. He found her across the pool in the gym area with Clint, as he was teaching her how to walk a tightrope with a line they had drawn on the turf in chalk paint. The next time, she was teaching him the basic ballet positions, and Bucky smiled. With Nat happy, content with being off in her own world with a silly guy that made her laugh, Bucky felt comfortable with admitting that he felt the same. And this feeling was one that he could grow used to feeling for the rest of the summer.

( _Fuck it_ , forever.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can y'all believe these sappy flirts? 😅
> 
> I hope you enjoyed learning more about Steve and his job and coworkers! (Shoutout to everyone who already caught onto the clues that they're The Howling Commandos; I hope you think that's a cute detail.)
> 
> As always, please feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments! I greatly appreciate every single word (and/or emoji) 😊
> 
> Coming up next on Love Island...We'll meet some new Islanders and play through another challenge. See you there! 🏝🏝🏝


	15. Chapter 15

**Episode 15**

“Bucky.”

_Mm_ , Bucky hummed against Steve’s chest, uncertain if that technically qualified as a response or a question.

“Bucky, my arm’s burning,” Steve said with a bit more urgency. Without asking for Bucky’s input, Steve lifted his arm out from behind Bucky’s head, forcing him to fall face-first into the pillows.

Bucky groaned against the fabric. He must have fallen asleep shortly after they received the second text about second dates; Scott switched Thor for Wanda, and Maria chose Carol, sending Thor back to the villa who was immediately surrounded by the other Islanders, asking about their new competitors. Bucky preferred to stay where he was with Steve. “Then, pick a daybed in the shade next time.”

“I will, but we also need to meet the new Islanders now.” Bucky groaned again, hiding his face by burying it further into the pillowcase. Steve simply pressed a quick kiss to the back of his head and rubbed his shoulders with a tight squeeze. “Come on.”

Simply lifting his head, Bucky could feel the mess of his hair, falling flat in the back, lacking any volume. “How do I look?” he asked, hoping Steve would spare him an honest answer.

But Steve took a step back, looking him up and down, taking in every detail of how Bucky kneeled on the daybed. Bucky shied away from his determined gaze, as he stated adamantly, “You look like the most beautiful person in this competition. One of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, and I presume to be one of the most beautiful people in the world.”

Bucky wondered if his cheeks had caught a touch of sunburn, lifting a hand to check. “You really think so?”

“Of course, I do,” Steve said with an edge to his voice, as if offended that Bucky would question him. “I also think that you’re far too attractive to fish for compliments, so c’mon, let’s go.”

As he stood from the daybed, Bucky scoffed but followed him to the fire pit, clinging to his side. Nat shook her head when she saw them approaching, judging the way that Bucky essentially melted onto Steve while simultaneously ignoring the fact that she sat perched on Clint’s lap. Bucky realized that they looked like two couples afraid to let their partners go in front of the new competition, and well, maybe there was some truth in that.

Still, Bucky extended his hand to the first of this new competition with a polite smile. “Hi, I’m Bucky.”

“Maria Hill,” she said to introduce herself, shaking his hand with a firm grip and hiding the relatable sense of overwhelming panic behind kind eyes. Maria had her medium-length, brunette hair pinned back, showing off the elegant angles of her face, and wore a simple, black one-piece bathing suit, subtly accessorized with gold accents that matched the studs in her ears. With natural makeup, she exuded confidence in her appearance, needing no enhancements to illustrate her beauty.

“Bucky?” the man on her left repeated. “Is that German or something?”

“Short for my middle name,” Bucky explained without rolling his eyes. “My sister came up with it, and I could never really shake it.”

“That’s cool, man. I’m Scott. Wish I had a fun nickname, but it’s just Scott.”

Scott had a youthful face, boyish charm that took nearly a decade off his real age. He buzzed with the same kind of nervous energy that fueled Clint’s always-anxious movements with the kind, welcoming smile that made anyone want to spend the night trading stories over a good beer with Sam. Not that he was advocating on behalf of judging based on looks alone, but handsome and friendly were the start of a great combination.

“What do you both do for a living?” Steve asked. Apparently, their faces had not jogged his memory, or maybe, he was just stimulating the conversation for the other Islanders.

“Damn, I wish I had a more fun job to tell you,” Scott said. “I work in tech support for a medical supplies company based out of L.A.”

Maria clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I think I have you beat in the fun department. I’m an accountant.”

Nat caught Steve’s eye with a smirk. “Went with all the serious jobs this year, huh, Mr. Producer?”

Steve shrugged, casual as can be. “I just choose people who are my type.”

While the others laughed, Steve let his arm fall from Bucky’s shoulders to wrap around his waist, pinching his hip in the process. Bucky laughed again, wiggling from his grasp but refusing to admit that he was ticklish.

“Now, forgive me for being forward,” Maria began, and the atmosphere of the group shifted from the weight of her following words, “but who feels locked in their couples, and who is open to exploring other options?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Riley take a small step closer to Sam, while Clint rested a hand on Nat’s leg. “Sorry, doll,” Riley said, turning his head to double-check with Sam, who answered with a simple nod. “I think we’re fixed.”

“Likewise,” Nat said, coolly, confidently. 

“Speak for yourself,” Clint interjected beneath her, and the others looked at him with a gasp. As Bucky’s blood pressure increased, Clint grinned. “I don’t _think_ anything. I know damn well that not a single person could walk through this place and turn my head.”

Bucky let out a silent sigh of relief, thankful to see Nat press a giggly kiss to his cheek, while the others _aw_ ’ed in their direction.

Val was the first to say something different, standing alone beside Steve, as Carol sat on Maria’s left. “We talked about this before the date, but I don’t mind telling everyone else. Carol and I both agreed that it’s early enough that we feel comfortable getting to know other people.”

_Shit_ , a lot could change while a guy slept. Bucky glanced around for a response but found mostly everyone with their eyes down, attention focused to the ground. Thor, however, appeared thrilled by this news, almost excitedly looking at Val. From a producer’s standpoint, Bucky imagined that this development would be good for ratings, but Steve seemed nervous. The muscles in his arm tensed behind Bucky’s back. “What’s wrong?” Bucky whispered.

Steve kept his eyes forward, lowering his voice. “We haven’t really had this conversation yet.”

Swallowing his own nerves, Bucky nodded. “Just be honest. I won’t be offended.”

If Steve wanted to see other people, that was fine, right? _Right? That was fine?_ They hadn’t defined their – well, they couldn’t even call it a relationship. They had only been on one date, so they weren’t exactly dating. But they had spent hours and hours getting to know each other, far more than any other couple who had only had one date in the outside world. They shared a bed together, cuddled and kissed, but they weren’t fully hooking up to be considered–

“I can’t speak for Bucky, but I’m quite happy being coupled with him, and I’d really like to see where it goes.”

Again, Bucky could breathe a sigh of relief. Even though he couldn’t precisely place the words, Steve phrased it perfectly. He enjoyed their current situation and would enjoy watching how it progressed without any pressure. He also realized maybe a beat too late that everyone else was waiting for his response. Lamely, internally criticizing the flush that spread across his face, he said, “Yeah, I agree.”

Maria nodded with an appreciative smile. “I completely understand. Thanks, everyone, for letting us know.”

“Yeah, I would never want to overstep,” Scott agreed.

Just in time, Maria’s phone let out a little chirp. “Wow, I think I got a text,” she said, as calm as that phrase would ever be said.

Scott nudged her arm with a grin. “Look at us, already part of the group.”

“Islanders, it’s time to put your relationships to the test and see who you’re _really_ compatible with. #Compatibility-Olympics #Bronze-Silver-Goals”

[ _This one’s a thinker, folks. Before the competition started, we asked our dear Islanders to fill out a few different surveys about their various preferences and favorite things. Favorite movies, foods, colors. What’s your spirit animal? Go-to karaoke song? If you were in a position of power, what would be your strategy for minimizing economic disparity in the United States? You know, the usual first date questions. Then, our producing team compared everyone’s answers, and through an incredibly scientific and mathematical process, they ranked each Islander with their first, second, and third most compatible matches. It’s up to our Islanders to figure out those matches, and we only need six out of the twelve to solve it._ ]

“I’m not entirely sure why that math works.”

[ _Trust us, Clint, it’ll make sense._ ]

“I’m not entirely sure _if_ that math works.”

[ _Don’t worry, Buck-o; neither are we. But hey, you guys win a fun party tonight if one of you can guess the right three people in the right order on your first try. So, let’s get this show on the road with newcomer Scott_.]

After being led to the area of turf across the pool, Scott stood before a tri-level podium, while everyone else was lined up off to the side. “Okay, cool, so obviously I don’t know all of you too well yet,” Scott said, wringing his hands in front of him, “but I would have to say that after our date, Wanda would be my first choice for number one. From watching the first couple episodes, I think Clint and I would get along well and I really want to know more about the circus thing, so I’ll choose him second. Third, I’ll go with Mr. Riley Jones, because this will probably be my only chance for us to consider being in a couple.”

The three took their places on the podium, and a producer – Bucky remembered him as Jones, maybe? – checked his choices with a notecard. “Two Islanders are correct, but only one is in the right place.”

Seeming not too surprised, Scott nodded. “Thank you for your time, Riley. You looked stunning as always.” Riley laughed as he returned to the line, flipping his hair over his other shoulder, and Scott continued. “I still think Wanda is in the right spot, so I’ll ask Clint to move to third. I guess I’ll call up Thor for number two.”

“Two right, two in the right places.”

“Okay, then. Bye, Thor,” Scott said, giving him a lighthearted wave. “How about my new Islander partner Maria?”

“Two right, two in the right places.”

[ _Right, let’s speed this up a little bit, since Scott isn’t going to be our party winner._ ]

“Carol?”

After she took her spot, Jones nodded with news that made everyone relax. “Correct. 90s grunge was the special link between you two.” Grimacing from the message he must have received in his headset, possibly with a French accent, Jones raised a hand to his ear. “Riley, you’re up next.”

Riley appeared confident, having his three choices ready. “For my number one, there’s no doubt in my mind that it belongs to my birdie Sammie. For my number two, stealing this Islander’s partner has worked for me in the past, so I’ll go with Steve.” Riley shot Bucky a playful wink while the others laughed, and Bucky returned it with a tight-lipped smile. “Third, let’s get my girl Val up here.”

They took their places, and Jones reported back, “Two right, one in the right place.”

“Huh.” Riley turned back the podium. “How about Val move up to second for all the hobbies that we share, and Thor can take third, since I know you’ve done some modeling work too.”

“Two right, two in the right places.”

[ _Yeah, let’s skip ahead again._ ]

“Let’s try Sam as one, Val as two, and our new Miss Maria as number three.”

“Correct.”

Pretending to wipe the sweat from his brow, Riley took his place back in line. Thor was called next and took three tries to correctly guess his podium with Val in first, Sam in second, and Steve in third. (The three bros bro’d it up after Steve and Sam hopped down from their places.) Maria guessed twice before accurately settling on Carol in first, Wanda in second, and Riley in third.

When he was called up to take his turn, Bucky hoped to continue the trend of quick guesses but had to admit that he didn’t feel too confident, aside from his first choice. “Based on how well we’ve gotten along so far and how we have to be the only two here with our sick, cynical sense of humor, I think you’re my number one, Steve. Maria has the most similar and boring job compared to mine, so you can be my number two. And for number three,” Bucky paused to scan the line, unsure of who to pick before settling on a familiar friendly face, reminding him of the first time that he stood on this turf and selected someone from a lineup. “Riley, I’ll take a page from your book. Sam, come on up for number three.”

Riley laughed it off, but Bucky swore that he could have seen a bit of fire blazing behind those pretty hazel eyes. Another Jones of presumably no relation, referred to a card to check Bucky’s podium. “Two right, two in the right places.”

Off to a decent start, Bucky couldn’t complain. “Okay, I feel good about one and two, so let’s try Carol for number three.”

“One right, one in the right place.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Bucky thought out loud, along with a few others. _Maybe there was something true about first instincts, after all_. “So, Sam come back to number three, which means that I have to come up with someone else for number two.”

Now that this was not-so-simply a process of elimination, Bucky felt that this game was painfully reminiscent of the analytical reasoning puzzles he had to practice relentlessly to earn that 170 on the LSAT. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bucky tried to remember all the previous combinations and wished that he had a piece of paper to jot down notes. He knew that there were only a couple people who could fill the second place, mentally crossing out names on the chart he pictured and coming to a conclusion.

“Believe it or not, I don’t want to say this person, because even though we’ve known each other for years, we would not be romantically compatible in any way. Still, for the game, I’ll say Nat is my number two.”

“I completely agree, by the way,” Nat added when she took her place.

They all looked at Jones. “Two right, two in the right places.”

“Fuck,” Bucky sighed, and Steve snorted behind him.

Closing his eyes, Bucky desperately grasped for the details that were fleeing his mind. He racked his brain one last time – _if M comes before H, then_ – before settling on the only option that could work. “Clint? Are you my number two?”

Building that classic dramatic tension, Jones paused before announcing the result. “Correct.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, unable to mask his surprise that _Clint_ was the person he was second-most compatible with, _really?_

Jones nodded enthusiastically, on the verge of laughter. “I actually have a note here to read about that. It was essentially a perfect tie between Steve and Clint, but the question about future children made the difference. ‘On a scale of one to ten, how much do you see children playing a role in your future?’ Bucky, you wrote _zero_ , and Steve, you wrote _fuck no_.”

Bucky beamed up at Steve, as if he needed another reason to like him more. Stretching out an arm, Bucky offered his hand to help steady Steve as he hopped down from the top of the podium before sweeping Bucky into a hug, lifting him off the ground. Bucky grinned into the kiss that he gladly welcomed. When they pulled away, Steve shrugged at the camera. “Sorry, Ma.”

[ _And that leaves us with one Islander to put the pieces all together and one last chance to win that party. Nat, how good are your memorization skills?_ ]

With her eyes trained on the lineup, Nat stood with her back straight, hands behind her back, comfortable with the pressure of being last. “Even if I was going first, this would have been my guess. I never would have thought this in the beginning, but Clint, you’re my number one weirdo. I think I connect with number two, because we both really like my best friend, so Steve, feel free to come forward.” Damning his sunburn (and still using that excuse), Bucky felt his face glow red-hot. “That makes Val number three, since we both live an athlete’s lifestyle.”

A few beats of tension and drama passed, and then, Jones nodded. “Correct.”

The Islanders erupted into celebration – or, as much of an eruption twelve people could make, clapping and screaming. They circled around Nat, thanking her for the party and chanting her name. Thor and Steve lifted her to sit in between their shoulders, like she was the MVP of the big game. Which, to be fair, she was, but hey, now they had a party to prepare for that night!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the words of Adore Delano: Party. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed meeting our lovely new Islanders and welcoming them into the group with a tricky mental challenge! (And, oh yeah, we will definitely be discussing those 'compatibility' results.)
> 
> Feel free to pour out all your thoughts in the comments, and if you haven't yet, drop me a kudos to let me know you're enjoying the Island vibes! 😎
> 
> Today officially marks two weeks since I started posting this story (can you believe it!), and I am so incredibly thankful for the response that I've received. It's so heartwarming to see everyone interact with this narrative, and I couldn't be happier to contribute something that I am so proud of in honor of this awesome community. I got into marvel/stucky pretty late in the game, only about two years ago, but this community has made such a positive impact on my life. From the bottom of my heart, I am so thankful to each and every one of you taking the time to read this story and this note. 😊
> 
> I'm even more new to tumblr (and I'll admit that I find it stressful and am quite terrible at keeping a blog), but if you want to reblog this story to share with your friends or ever want to chat with someone about two supersoldiers in love, you can find me at buckyandthejets
> 
> Okay! That's enough from me! 😅
> 
> Tomorrow, I hope you're ready to get ready for a party! 🏝🏝🏝


	16. Chapter 16

**Episode 16**

“Anyone else feel like it’s a go big or go home kind of night?” Nat asked the dressing room.

Applying her makeup in front of a vanity mirror, Val replied, “Oh, yes.”

“Always,” Riley agreed without turning to look at anyone from where he sat cross-legged on the floor in front of his floor-length, closet mirror, doing…well, something.

To Bucky, it looked like he was sticking diamond-esque gemstones along his cheekbones, which was cool and would probably look amazing with whatever editorial look that he had planned for the night. From where he was standing in front of his own closet, lost, sliding the hangers back and forth and hoping a good outfit would jump out at him, Bucky envied Riley’s immediate and confident sense of style. “Nat,” he said to get her attention from curling her hair. “Which jacket?”

She tilted her head at the two options that he held up, debating between a leather and bomber jacket; both were sleek, black, and timeless. “What are you wearing it with?”

He balanced both hangers on one hand to pull out the shirt. “I was thinking daisies.”

Across the room, Riley gasped. “Did someone say daisies?” Bucky lifted it up for him to see the layers of sheer black fabric covered in white daisies. “Oh, we’re breaking out the _Gucci_ tonight, are we?”

_Of course,_ the fashion model would recognize the brand immediately, but Bucky still shied away from the confirmation, hearing someone say his guilty pleasure out loud. Every once and a while, maybe he liked to spend a good portion of his paycheck on a designer piece to add to his wardrobe, especially with Becca’s connections to knock a few bucks off the price tag, _so what?_

Still, Val perked up, leaning around her mirror to take a peak and saying excitedly, “Ooh, yes, Bucky! I bet that looks amazing on you.”

“It looks especially amazing in the club,” Nat doubled-down and announced to the room, while he blushed and hid behind the shirt in question, “when we’re under the lights and you can see his chest through it.”

“Yes!” Val said, tossing her head back with a laugh.

Riley grinned too. “Oh, we love a tastefully-slutty moment.”

Brushing aside his pride-slash-embarrassment, Bucky changed into the shirt, leaving nothing under it to make Nat (and the rest of the room) happy.

“Doll, that’s _so_ perfect,” Riley said, and after finishing his rhinestone application process, he rose gracefully from the floor and rummaged around his closet. “Because _I_ was planning on wearing this.”

He spun around to show the rest of them his completed outfit. A pair of wedge heels made him tower over everyone else in the room, at least half a foot taller. He wore a simple, white halter top, tucked into high-waisted, light-denim bellbottoms. On the pockets of the jeans were the same diamond accents that were on his face. Topping off the sunshiney, hippie dream, resting on his long and flowing, wavy hair, as if it had just finished drying from a day at the beach, was a daisy crown.

Bucky laughed and accepted his hug when he walked over.

“Can we be daisy twinsies?” Riley asked with his arms still wrapped around Bucky’s waist after he pulled away.

Sparing a concerned glance at Nat who looked ecstatic, Bucky kept himself from shaking his head. “Sure,” he said hesitantly, “but only if you promise to never say that again.”

Riley cackled, playfully pushing him away. “Fine. Can we still get a picture together, though?”

Looking at Nat again, Bucky watched her eyes widen at that suggestion, presumably reading exactly what he was thinking: _a supermodel wanted to take a picture with him_.

Despite the previous tension with this particular supermodel, Bucky couldn’t really deny that offer. “Of course.”

“Yay!” Riley clapped his hands together before checking his appearance in Bucky’s mirror, pushing a few stray white-gold strands of hair back into place, and then turning on his heel to address the other two in the room. “Would one of you lovely ladies mind controlling the camera?”

“Not at all,” Nat said, quick to take Riley’s phone, stepping back until they were both in the frame.

As soon as the lens was pointed at them, Riley fell comfortably into his usual patterns. He angled his shoulders, pouted his lips, and tilted his head down, slightly at an angle that could probably be measured with a protractor for him to replicate. Bucky found himself subconsciously mirroring his position, glancing out of his periphery to adjust his stance, resting his hand more naturally by his side, as Riley was doing. He tried not to laugh at Nat looking like a proud mom behind the screen, smiling sweetly in approval, and hoped that his face would depict the same faux, neutral-but-almost-bitchy confidence that Riley was exuding.

That expression immediately dissolved into a genuine grin, showing off his not-perfectly-straight but still-pearly-white teeth, when Nat handed him back his phone. “Thank you so much,” he said and checked the pictures. “And thanks for the party. I’ll see you out there.”

“See you,” Nat agreed with a nod and left the room with Val, leaving Bucky and Riley alone.

Together.

“We look great, don’t you think?” Riley asked, showing him one of the pictures.

With Riley in white and himself in black, Bucky knew that their outfits weren’t necessarily corresponding, but the daisy motif tied them together. Their poses seemed balance, and his own pout didn’t look too ridiculous. _Becca would be proud_. Actually, _Becca would be losing her mind back home while watching her brother interact with someone who was apparently such a huge name in fashion but completely unknown to him_. That thought made Bucky smirk. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

After sliding his phone back into one of his back pockets, Riley’s expression changed again to something different, something almost nervous. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Now, Bucky felt the same way, hoping his joke from earlier didn’t cross a line. They obviously didn’t have the greatest track record together, and Bucky wondered, cornered in a dressing room, if this was when the claws came out. Still, heart pounding and mind swimming with anxiety, Bucky humored him. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Okay,” Riley started and took a deep breath to seemingly clear his own nerves. “I just wanted to clear the air about – _us_ , I guess. I have no idea what you think of me or if you hate me, because the cameras are sure as hell making it look like we hate each other, but that’s not true at all. At least from my perspective.”

As Bucky started to open his mouth to reply, Riley continued, on a roll, like these thoughts had been pent up in his mind for a while and he was finally able to release the valve. “I wanted to apologize to you. You probably don’t like me, but I really hope you don’t. I still feel so bad about taking Sam from you the first time we met, and I want you to know that it was nothing personal. If I joke about it now, it’s only because I cope with everything awkward through humor, and I don’t mean to offend you. Trust me, if you asked any of my friends, they would tell you that I am the least antagonistic person on the planet and would never be mean to you on purpose, so I’m real sorry if I ever did.”

_Well_. This was certainly not the conversation he had been expecting.

Bucky shook his head, appreciating his honesty and urgency, as the words tumbled out of Riley’s mouth with earnest. “No! No, I don’t dislike you. You haven’t done anything wrong. If I looked offended in that first coupling thing, it was only because I was surprised, since to tell you the truth, I had no idea what was happening. I haven’t really seen the show and didn’t realize that you could even do that. It wasn’t your fault at all.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Riley said, raising his hands. “Back up a sec. What do you mean you haven’t really seen the show before? You’re not tellin’ me that you auditioned for a reality show that you’ve _never_ seen before, are you?”

“I have, I have. Just not very – thoroughly, I guess? I’ve watched a few episodes with Nat here and there, but I’ve never really seen a full season from start to finish. I get the basic premise and how it works, but this is definitely not my type of thing. Nat was the one who wanted to try out for the show, and I agreed to do it with her, as long as she’d be with me to guide me through it.”

A wave of emotion crashed over Riley’s face in an instant, puzzle pieces clicking into place, and he let out a sigh of relief through a laugh. “Oh my god! That makes so much sense! Here, I am thinking that ever since day two when you pulled Sam off to the side for that little chat, you’ve been mad about me picking him as my partner and had it in for me. And _I’ve_ been tryin’ to brush it off casually with all these inside jokes and references that you don’t even understand. God, you probably think I’m some kind of _monster_!”

Again, Bucky shook his head. “Not at all. I mean, you being with Sam has obviously worked out so well, and then they introduced Steve. I don’t think it could have gone any better.”

Riley brought his hands to his freckled cheeks shyly. “Thank you, dearie. I’m also glad that I’ve been able to get to know Sam and you’ve been able to get to know Steve. I’ll admit that I didn’t trust him at first. I probably came across as a total bitch to him, but it’s only because I was scared for you and for everyone else. I’m the only person who has been in this type of environment before, and I’ve seen what people like him – _producers_ – can do to manipulate and hurt people just to make a show.”

“No, I totally get it,” Bucky said, reaching out to touch his arm supportively. “I understood in the moment and I still understand now, and I really do appreciate that you were looking out for us. Thankfully, Steve’s turning out to be such a genuine guy, and I feel so lucky that he really is caring and kind. I’m sorry if you encountered anyone on the other show that wasn’t like that.”

A small crack in Riley’s demeanor formed – a twitch in the corner of his mouth – but he smiled, remaining strong despite the tinge of pain that Bucky could see swirling in the blue-green-brown mix of his eyes. “Thanks, Bucky,” he said softly, pulling him in for another hug.

Bucky allowed this one to linger longer, and he let his arms cross fully behind Riley’s exposed back. “Thank _you_ , Riley.” Unable to believe that these words were forming in his brain, Bucky said them anyway for the sheer ridiculous fun of it, “I’m glad we can be, uh, daisy twinsies tonight.”

“Yes!” Along with a laugh, Riley let out a high-pitched squeal in the back of his throat as they pulled away. “Now, we should probably make our way to that party, huh?”

“Wait,” Bucky said, grabbing his arm before he walked too far away and picking up the two hangers that hung on his closet door. With a fashion genius right beside him, he absolutely had to take advantage of this opportunity. “Which jacket?”

“Shoot, that’s right. Okay,” Riley trailed off and looked between the jackets, brow furrowing, as if deeply pondering the decision. “Y’know, usually, I am always a sucker for a nice bomber, but somethin’ about the tough leather against the soft flowers is calling my name.”

Trusting the expert’s opinion wholeheartedly, Bucky slipped on the leather jacket after placing the bomber back on the rack. “Good?”

Riley nodded, as light bounced and refracted the entire rainbow back on the crystals on his cheeks. “Killer. Let’s go find our boys and knock ‘em dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a surprising detour, I'll admit. But a very important one! I think it's really crucial that Bucky develops relationships outside of Nat and Steve, so I wanted to clear the air between these two as soon as possible. It's an important step to him actually finding comfort in this environment that doesn't rely on one or two people. Plus, I really like the potential of Riley's character in any AU and in this one in particular, and hopefully you feel the same! 😅
> 
> (For some reason, I have no idea why, but I've always pictured Riley looking like an (obviously) human, real-life version of how most artists draw Taako from The Adventure Zone. If that means something to you, awesome! Hopefully, that makes you laugh. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, don't worry about it! Perhaps, I'm revealing too much about my other nerdy interests. Regardless, picture Riley however makes you happiest! 😂)
> 
> And oh yes, of course, Bucky's shirt is referring to Sebastian's absolutely stunning Gucci daisy shirt that I am obsessed with forever and always. One of my all-time favorite looks! 
> 
> As always, I love hearing your thoughts, so feel free to leave a comment whenever you have the chance. Thank you kindly! 😄
> 
> Okay, tomorrow! We will actually party this time 🎉🎉🎉


	17. Chapter 17

**Episode 17**

Bucky had never seen a spit-take in real life, but he assumed that Steve’s reaction to him walking out of the bedroom was the closest he would get.

Beside Riley, borrowing his self-assured gait, Bucky knew that they would demand everyone’s attention when they stepped outside, embodying the personification of two different eras of rock-n-roll. They certainly caught Steve’s. As soon as his eyes laid on Bucky, they widened over the rim of the plastic cup he lifted to his mouth, searching over his body and taking in every detail. He started with the silver zipper of his leather jacket and worked down to the tightness of his black jeans before going back up to the extra bounce in his hair and settling on the nearly see-through designer shirt.

And then Steve unceremoniously spit his drink back into the cup, coughing and sputtering, as he tried not to choke.

Abandoning his confident, Riley-inspired strut, Bucky hurried to the kitchenette counter where he stood beside Sam. “Are you okay?”

At the same time, Sam asked through a disbelieving laugh, “You good, man?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Steve said weakly, struggling to catch his breath, and cleared his throat before tripping over a somersault of words. “Wow, Bucky, you look incredible tonight. You always look great, but tonight, especially, you look – wow. _Gorgeous_.”

Bucky couldn’t recall the last time he had left someone speechless – _had he ever?_ – and it brought a smile to his face, small, subtle, and just a little shy, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before saying equally and embarrassingly demure, “Thank you.”

In another Hawaiian shirt, painted waves in pastels to mimic the sunset, short sleeves showing off his muscular arms, Steve didn’t look half-bad himself. “I’d like to say that you look nice too, but I’m not gonna choke on my tongue doing it,” Bucky said with a smirk, reminding himself of the confidence that his own outfit exuded.

Steve only ducked his head with a chuckle in response.

After it was clear that Steve didn’t need the Heimlich maneuver, Sam allowed his attention to rest where it was naturally called, looking at Riley who was still by the double French doors. “Angel, you look absolutely heavenly.”

“Aw, birdie!” Riley’s shoes clunked heavily against the deck’s floorboards, but the kiss he pressed to Sam’s cheek was feather-light. With his arms wrapped around Sam’s neck, Riley stood a few inches taller than Sam, and Sam’s hand rested comfortably on Riley’s hip, perfectly fine with the height difference.

“Are the pet names what made them most compatible?” Clint leaned in to ask Nat, leaving his voice loud enough for everyone else to hear, as the rest of the group stood in a circle around the island.

“Yeah, can we talk about those results?” Bucky asked. “What about me saying I like chicken parm makes you and I the second-most compatible?”

Clint shrugged. “I said sushi was my favorite.”

“ _I_ said sushi was my favorite,” Nat pointed out.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a knowing smirk, “and I said I liked Italian.”

Still unconvinced of the legitimacy of this challenge, Bucky asked, “So, the compatibility metric is based on favorite foods?”

Defending himself, Steve lifted up his hands. “Don’t look at me. This wasn’t one of my challenges.”

“I feel like it had to be more nuanced than that,” Riley said. “I mean, when they asked about goals on those surveys, I mostly talked about how my career is my top priority, but I still want to start a family.”

Sam smiled and nodded. “I wrote something pretty similar.”

“Great, so the test was based on favorite foods and whether or not you want kids. Very scientific,” Clint concluded, and the others laughed.

“Hey, I wouldn’t complain too much, considering your number one match got us this party,” Val said after joining them from where she was talking privately beside the pool with Thor.

The other couples trickled in, taking their places in the kitchenette, and after doing a quick headcount, Clint said, “I think we’re all here, so do you want to do us the honors?”

He gestured to the ribbon-wrapped gift basket that was filled with plastic champagne flutes and two bottles. Nat grinned, smile shining brighter than the sparklers that were handed out by the producers. She ripped off the pretty silver foil and popped the first bottle, pointing it away from everyone else so that the cork flew into a bush. While the others cheered, Clint rushed to get her a glass before all of the champagne spilled onto the counter.

As they laughed together, Bucky realized that this moment was exactly what she had dreamed of when they applied for the show. Joking with a guy who adored her, surrounded by the other Islanders who praised her, she was not only the star of the hour but a part of the group.

This was everything she wanted, and she absolutely deserved it.

Bucky cheered for her, surprised by the scream of joy coming out of his mouth when she popped the second bottle. Like the others, Steve waved his sparkler, and Bucky held the crook of his elbow, as they watched the sparks literally fly through the air. Catching Nat’s eye, she probably wanted this too: her best friend happy.

When all of the glasses were passed around the circle, Val nudged Nat to make a toast. Recalling her distaste for public speaking from high school, Bucky was surprised to see her immediately raise her glass. “When we started this, I was so nervous. I was nervous to be on TV, and I was nervous about wearing a bikini every day. I was nervous that I wouldn’t fit it, and I’d be stuck talking with Bucky in a corner, like we spent most of our lives. Not that that was a bad thing!” she added, and he laughed, completely understanding her message. “But you all have helped me feel so welcome here, so _loved_ every step of the way, and that’s the best feeling in the world. That’s what we’re all here for, right? So, no matter where this journey takes us, here’s to finding love.”

“To finding love,” Bucky repeated, joining the others, and caught Nat’s eye before they both took a sip.

From there, the party officially started, as speakers near the pool began blasting music, a Top 40s playlist that would be replaced with something royalty-free in the edit. Half of the group split off to try out the dance floor, glowing and flashing white tiles, that had been assembled right atop the turf that held the podium that they were on just a few hours before.

The other half stayed in the kitchenette.

Not yet ready to embarrass himself through the art of dance, Bucky chose to remain right where he was standing, relaxed beside Steve and sipping bubbly. Along with Carol and Wanda, they caught Maria and Scott up on everything so far: the first coupling, the first challenges, Steve’s entrance, the recoupling, Brock’s exit. Bucky scoffed when they approached that particular topic of conversation, muttering into his glass, “There’s not nearly enough champagne here to talk about him.”

While Steve explained to the others his involvement in planning challenges, as he had done earlier that day for Bucky, Bucky’s eyes wandered over to where Nat was dancing with Clint, definitely not in the style that he was used to seeing. It was nice to see her like that, though. With her hair down, she moved fluidly with the beat of the pop song, not confined to complex choreography. Beside them, obliviously and blissfully off in their own world, Riley and Sam slow-danced despite the upbeat electronica in the background. Val and Thor appeared pleased to have been given the opportunity to get to know each other better and pleased to find out that they were each other’s most compatible matches, dancing close together.

Carol spared a few distracted glances in their direction, but she still seemed content in her own chance to bond with Maria. In the kitchenette, an extra level of energy from quiet Wanda showed exactly how thrilled she was to have someone to finally chat geeky with, gushing over tech talk. It was a perfect moment in general – everyone happy. With Steve’s arm tossed around his shoulders, Bucky certainly felt happy too.

He had to admit that he was naïve to think that it would last long.

“Oh, shit,” Scott whispered, as the only person facing the entrance to the back deck. He pointed down the ivy-lined walkway, and everyone else turned to see Janet Van Dyne appear out of thin air. When he saw that the others were witnesses to the same fantastical vision, he reiterated, “ _Shit_.”

Steve sighed, breath cool, chilling. “Oh no.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, and he reached out to grip Steve’s forearm.

As the music cut off in the middle of a repetitive chorus, the six on the dance floor noticed Janet’s presence at the same time through collective gasps, raised eyebrows, and hands covering mouths. Nervous chatter replaced the noise of the speakers, murmurs that buzzed with the overwhelming sense of anxiety or dread, as if the dark sky started to swirl with wind while thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Islanders,” Janet announced, collected and calm, quite the opposite of the storm brewing around her. “Please gather around the fire pit in your couples.”

Reluctantly, waiting for the first person to make a move, the others followed her order, but Bucky remained in place, tightening his grasp on Steve before he could take a step forward. “Wait, what’s happening?”

Steve faced him with another sigh. “Surprise elimination. Public vote.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, looking around at everyone else who was taking their producer-instructed places and fearing the thought of one of them going home. _More than one? Himself? Did he really care if–_

“Hey,” Steve whispered and brought his hand up to cup Bucky’s jaw before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “It’ll be okay.”

As they stood in the middle of the arch, Bucky felt his worry start to subside, no time to consider the worst-case possibilities.

Across from the flickering red-orange flames, Janet rivalled the fire in her own red gown. “Islanders, the public have been voting on their favorite couples. Those with the most votes will be safe to continue their Love Island journey. Those with the least votes will be up for elimination. Scott and Maria, as our newest Islanders, you will not be eligible for this elimination, so please, take your seats. As I call your names, in no particular order, I will ask you to please sit beside them.”

Bucky felt Steve’s hand search for his own by his side without looking, interlacing their fingers and giving a quick squeeze when he found them.

“The first couple who is safe is,” Janet continued, paused, and finished without preamble, “Bucky and Steve.”

Too surprised to know how to react, Bucky allowed Steve to guide him down onto the bench. Nat grinned, and Riley started the applause. While Steve wrapped his arm around his shoulders, Bucky realized the implications of this moment, sitting as the other eight still stood. He was in it for another week, and now that he was finding enjoyment in this experience, he was okay with that. He was okay with his spot on the show, continuing to get to know Steve, maybe even building a relationship with him, while his best friend pursued her own relationship prospects. With a smile, he looked back at Janet as she announced the others who would also be joining him.

Janet said, “Carol and Val,” and Bucky clapped.

Janet said, “Riley and Sam,” and Bucky clapped.

Janet said, “We are down to our final two couples,” and Bucky hesitated, realizing that Nat was still standing, staring down at her feet. As she fidgeted, fixing the clasp of her necklace, he froze. This couldn’t be happening. This was one of those tension-building moments, tricking the audience into thinking that the front-running couple was going home, where the cameras would zoom in on all four of their faces and strings would swell in the background, and after Janet says, “The last couple who is safe,” the cameras would pan to the fan-favorite couple, the opposites-attract, goofy and fun-loving entertainers who stole the hearts of the nation, Nat and Clint.

But, instead, Janet said, “The last couple who is safe is Thor and Wanda.”

Bucky only heard Thor’s relieved groan and Wanda’s sigh, because his eyes were completely trained on Nat, who applauded anyway, politely, perfectly familiar with the Love Island decorum. “What?” Bucky asked, accidentally digging his fingers into Steve’s thigh.

Steve didn’t respond, keeping his attention forward to hear Janet say, “Nat and Clint, you were unfortunately the couple with the least votes, which means that one of you must leave the villa tonight. The public has been voting on the Islander that they would like to save.”

With that, Bucky felt the air return to his lungs. She was fine; she was safe. She was beautiful and talented and intelligent, and she was the hero of the evening, the one who they had been celebrating and the one who gave that incredible toast, speaking from her heart. The heart that she laid out vulnerable for Clint and the whole world to see. Watching the bittersweet smile form on her face, Bucky knew that it would be difficult for her to say goodbye to Clint, but they would get through it together and she would find someone new or maybe even wait until they were home to reconnect with her acrobat. Either way, there was not a doubt in his mind that the person the public would save would be Nat.

Which is why it made no fucking sense when Janet said, “Sadly, the person leaving us tonight will be Nat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's a reality show without some drama? 
> 
> (I guess "Anyone feel like it's a go big or go home night?" is the new "See you in a minute" - oops I'm terrible 😅) 
> 
> I feel a little evil asking for your thoughts on this one, but I really do appreciate hearing all your thoughts and ideas! Thanks again to everyone who's already been commenting/leaving kudos; y'all are amazing!
> 
> Tomorrow, let's deal with the fallout together. See you there!


	18. Chapter 18

**Episode 18**

_Nat_.

Nat was the name of the girl who always had her fire-red hair tied in pigtails at the playground, who required weeks and weeks of convincing himself, rehearsing the words obsessively in his head, second-guessing himself until recess was over before he had the chance to ask her to ride the seesaw with him. Nat continued to wear her pigtails for maybe a year too long, so by the time that he worked up the courage, Bucky was the one to comfort her under the dome of the turtle-shell jungle gym when the other girls picked on her. Nat offered him the same shoulder to cry on, since those girls weren’t particularly kind to him either.

Just as she was doing in the moments following her own elimination from her own favorite TV show that Bucky was still a part of. “This isn’t fair,” he sobbed against the top of her head. Something about the cocktail of emotions mixed in unfamiliar combinations in his brain triggered the waterworks that threatened to never stop. “This – this isn’t happening. There has to be another way.”

Shaking her head, Nat remained ever relaxed, rubbing soothing circles into his back, as everyone else gave them space after Janet left. “It’s okay, Bucky,” she said, speaking directly into his chest, voice steady but muffled.

“No. No, it’s _not_ okay. This is not okay. This is _your_ thing, and I’m the one who thinks it’s stupid. You deserve to be here. I’ll give you my place–”

“ _No_ , Bucky–”

“Yes! Nat, it’ll be perfect. You can switch with me, and I’ll go home, and you can keep doing this, okay? Okay, it’ll be fine. Right? _Steve_!” Enthusiastically, like he had solved the riddle, Bucky looked over to where he was standing beside the extinguished fire pit. “We can do that, right, Steve?”

Steve stared down at the smoldering embers, the burnt ash, almost no emotion in his eyes except something like sympathized sorrow, as he shook his head. “No, Bucky. You can’t do that.”

His voice was quiet, but Bucky heard the words clearly, feeling them completely as they shot through his chest. “What? What do you mean? Of course, we can. You’re a producer. You can pull some strings–”

“No, Bucky.” This time, Nat was the one to interrupt him. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, resting her palms flat, and gently pushed him away. As she stepped out from under his embrace, Bucky stumbled forward, realizing that she was supporting most of his weight. Her voice was just as strong. “He’s not going to do anything, because we’re not going to do anything. Because it’s my time to go home, and I’m going to do that. You’re going to stay here, and everything’s going to be okay.”

Feeling fresh tears roll down his cheeks, Bucky refused to accept that version of reality. “I can’t, Nat. I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. You can do anything, and I want you to do this. After I’m gone, I think you’ll realize that you want to do this too. And you deserve it. You deserve to be happy, honey.”

She brushed her thumbs beneath his eyes, just as she had done while sitting on a pile of mulch when they were seven-years-old. When she looked up at him through stage-ready eyelashes, Bucky realized that she hadn’t shed a single tear.

“You can do it without me,” she said, voice firm, refusing to hear anything else.

Bucky continued to cry as he helped her pack her suitcase in the dressing room, reminding him of the Saturday mornings when Mrs. Romanov would be on her way to pick up Nat from Bucky’s house. They would hurriedly shove her clothes and toys in her gym bag, voices hoarse and hands sticky from pancake syrup, while devising plans to ask both of their moms to allow her to stay one more night.

Except, they always said no. They gave them the opportunity to say goodbye, either with a hug or that week’s secret handshake.

Watching Nat say her final goodbyes to the other Islanders was oddly like those memories from an out-of-body perspective. When she made it around to him, Bucky allowed the hug to linger a lot longer than it did when they were kids, and after she unpeeled his arms, Nat pressed a kiss to his cheek. As he watched her roll the suitcase down the cobblestone path, the path that they walked on side-by-side to start this journey _together_ , Bucky felt no different than the child at his screen door, watching a car drive away and wishing that his best friend could stay the whole summer.

Long, long after Nat had disappeared from view, her figure becoming a speck on the horizon as big as one of the stars in the sky, Bucky still stood in the foyer and hoped that some miracle or fluke in the system would bring her back. “Bucky,” Steve said, voice hesitant, coming from behind him. “Come on, we should get ready for bed.”

Steve rested his hand on his shoulder, and Bucky brushed it off. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you do anything?” Bucky repeated, crossing his arms, as he continued to stare out of the glass. “You could have helped. You’re a producer–”

“I’m _not_ a producer right now. I’m a contestant, and you know that, Bucky,” Steve said, and for the first time that evening, his tone had a bit of edge, not soft and rounded and pitying. It tore Bucky’s attention away from the door.

When he spun on his heel to face him, Bucky heard a hideous, strange sound bubble from deep in his throat in the form of a dark, biting laugh. “Yeah, I do know that. I also know that we _both_ know how these ‘public votes’ work.”

Steve’s hands went to his hips. “What does that mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Bucky said before he even realized the words were leaving his mouth. “We’re both familiar with the contract, so – forgive me if I paraphrase – ‘If there is to be believed any discrepancies in counting a public vote, _the producers_ reserve the right to decide the outcome of the vote.’ How easy is it to say there was a discrepancy?”

Blinking at him, Steve appeared in total disbelief. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying that I think I finally figured it out. You and your friends bring us onto the show together, find us both people to connect with, build up our egos, make us feel welcome and happy to be here, and then pull the rug out from under us. You tear us apart by sending one of us home, so that you can watch the other one fall apart. Watching me self-destruct? Great for ratings, I’m sure. That’s the only reason I can come up with for why you did nothing.”

“That’s the _only_ reason you can come up with?” Steve flinched, as if he had been slapped in the face, and Bucky felt the same way to hear his voice raised, just a shade shy of angry. “You don’t think it has anything to do with me not wanting to lose what we have?”

“ _What we have_?” Bucky parroted back with another terrible, awful laugh. “Please, feel free to enlighten me on _what we have_ , because to me, all we’ve done is gone on one date, have a few sleepovers, and make out like teenagers. You're someone I've known for two weeks, and she's someone I've known my entire life.”

Slowly, step by step, Steve backed away, raising his palms to Bucky and lowering his voice. “Okay. This has obviously been really hard for you, and I don’t blame you at all for reacting like this. I wish I could be there for you and help you through this, but it might be best for both of us if I give you some time alone.” As he reached the first step of the staircase, resting his arm on the railing, Steve turned back one last time. “If it’s any consolation for you, you’re wrong, Bucky – about a lot of things.”

Bucky watched him ascend to the second floor, heading to the dressing rooms, and it was the first time that he had seen Steve’s shoulders slumped with his head hanging low.

It was heartbreaking.

“Oh, my god,” Bucky whispered to himself, bringing a hand to his forehead as he felt a burst of pain explode there. He realized everything that he said in waves, repeating it back in his mind, as he was barely conscious when he was saying it, bullshitting on autopilot. _Oh, my god,_ had he really accused the show of rigging the vote? Had he really accused Steve of being in on it?

Two things he knew for certain: first, there was a very real possibility that he had fucked up everything that he and Steve had, which he was well aware existed, and second, he had stopped crying, at least for now.

In a daze, head swirling in realizations and regret, he walked into the bedroom. The others there greeted him, and he responded with a small wave. He kept his eyes on the hardwood, avoiding the passing glances; he didn’t want the sympathy, just wanted to climb into bed and hope to wake up from this nightmare.

Except, when he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, kicking off his shoes, he was greeted by the one person that he had essentially forgotten about: _Clint_. “You don’t look so hot,” Clint said, sitting cross-legged on what ~~was~~ used to be Nat’s side of the bed.

Bucky’s throat felt raw when he let out a single huff of a laugh. “I don’t feel so hot either.”

“I wasn’t expecting that tonight. I guess an elimination wasn’t that surprising, since it’s been a little while, but Nat? I never would’ve guessed that.”

Bucky shook his head. “I thought you two were great together.”

“Thanks, me too.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Clint cleared his throat. “We, uh, had the chance to talk – Nat and me – before she left. She told me that she didn’t mind me exploring my options here, but I don’t want to do that. She’s so – wow, just _amazing_ , dude, y’know. Of course, you know, but like, there’s not a single person on the whole damn planet that could walk in here and change how I feel about her. I hope you don’t mind, but after this, I want to find her, slide into those DMs, take her on a real date on our own terms, and, in a perfect world, make her my girlfriend.”

For the first time since he had heard a retired supermodel say his best friend’s name, Bucky gave a genuine smile, a small one but a smile nonetheless. “I think that’s really nice, Clint.”

“Yeah? You really think that? Because that’s a huge compliment coming from you.” Bucky nodded, allowing Clint another moment to remain in awe. “Hey, while I’m still here on the show, if you need anything at all, let me know, okay?”

_Dear god,_ Bucky thought. How pathetic did he have to look for him to be told that? “Thank you, but I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be saying that to you right now.”

“Nah, you’re fine. I’m not the one crying into their Gucci shirt.”

Bucky knew that he meant it is as a joke, but it was still a painful reminder. He looked down at the damn Gucci shirt, thought of the way Nat beamed when he first wore it, thought of how Steve tripped over his own tongue when he last wore it, thought of Steve. _Fuck_. His head ached, and he desperately pushed back the images of how _hurt_ he looked when Bucky said those things. _Why the fuck did he say those things?_ The hardest part of coping with this was that, of course, he knew exactly why he said those things. Desperately trying to say anything and everything that came to mind, he hoped to distract himself from the fact that as much as he told Nat, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to be here. But accepting that fact would require him to process his feelings for–

“Steve.”

He appeared on the other side of the bed, standing in a tight t-shirt and basketball shorts, and his voice was back to soft and light but maybe a bit defeated. “Hey, Buck. I’m gonna sleep on the couch in the living room tonight. Do you mind if I grab an extra pillow? I only need one.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, handing him one of the pillows from Steve’s side. “Yeah, sure, but you don’t have to do that.”

Steve shook his head and shifted his weight between his feet, as if deciding how to say something challenging. “No. No, I want to.”

“Oh.” Bucky noticed that Steve’s sky-blue eyes seemed cloudy, knowing that it was _his fault_ and still saying nothing. “That’s fine.”

“Yeah. Sleep well, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded and watched him walk away, walking out of the room to avoid him. It made him feel almost deserving of the splitting headache, feeling his pulse twitching in his right eye, as he sniffled after the lights automatically went dark. By himself, in a queen-sized bed, with Nat gone and his relationship with Steve slipping like sand between his fingers, he had never felt more alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another challenging episode but one that definitely plays a pivotal role.
> 
> In case anyone is interested in the legal side of things, the clause that Bucky cites is, in fact, found in almost any reality TV show contract that features a "public vote." How hard is it to say that there's a discrepancy in the voting system and give all of the power to the producers to make the final decision? Not very hard. As to whether or not that's what happened here...we'll find out 😉
> 
> As always, you're more than welcome to vent your thoughts and feelings in the comments. (Hopefully, you're not too terribly mad at me today 😅) 
> 
> Today, we'll let all of our frustrations go, and tomorrow, we'll reset and pave way for an apology. Like Nat said, I promise you that everything will be okay! 😊


	19. Chapter 19

**Episode 19**

Bucky woke up with a groan. The sharp, stabbing pain in his head had transitioned to a more persistent, dull throb, which was – better? Worse? He wasn’t sure, but he did know that feeling the bedsheets beside him cold and unoccupied resulted in a pain so deep in his core that he couldn’t describe it.

Sitting up straight, he also knew that he owed Steve a massive apology. Immediately.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, knowing that it would be a mess from a restless night’s sleep, and when his hand got stuck, he paused. He looked down to see that he had passed out in the previous night’s outfit, the same stupid daisy shirt and skinny jeans. Okay, the apology could be postponed by half an hour, assuming that Steve would prefer to see him after a shower and change of clothes. Maybe even after drinking a glass or two of water to make up for the gallons that escaped from his eyes.

The shower actually turned out to be a great idea. He boldly cranked the temperature a good deal hotter than normal, and he hissed when he first stepped in, clenching his molars together like his dentist told him not to do just to withstand the painful heat. But once the initial searing burn faded, he sighed. As he let his conditioner sit, he inhaled the steam, feeling it curl through his sinuses, opening and cleansing. Because, despite Nat writing most of his essays in exchange for her AP Physics lab reports, he still remembered AP Lit, and water equated to baptism and rebirth, right?

_Renewal_.

Rubbing a fluffy, pink towel over his similarly-pink skin, he planned to walk out of the shower as a renewed Bucky. One who would accept his position on the show. Who would confront his mistakes headfirst. Who would not shy away from his feelings and find the words to express them in a nearly-coherent, logical manner.

This new, refreshed, squeaky-clean Bucky stepped out of the tile stall and into that day’s swim trunks, featuring a loud, neon, geometrical pattern that Nat would have liked. Riding on the high of renewed confidence, he found the living room to be empty, meaning that Steve was awake, and the lights on in the bedroom meant that everyone else was too. A few of the Islanders were in the kitchenette, organizing breakfast at the stove, cutting fruit, or pouring coffee, but Steve wasn’t a part of them. In the gym, Clint was stretching on the ground beside Maria who was spotting Carol on the bench press. Thor and Val were swimming laps around each other in the pool. But, Steve wasn’t exercising either.

No one greeted him when he stepped onto the deck, which was probably the reaction that he, too, would have given to the grown man who spent the night sobbing until he passed out. “Has anyone seen Steve?” he asked, cringing at the way his voice cracked when he started speaking.

No one responded, but he clearly noticed the looks that were exchanged between Scott and Wanda before they both kept their heads down, making themselves look busy. Bucky intercepted the same look that Sam intended to send to Riley, stepping between them. Putting on a smile, Riley set down the knife on the cutting board next to the avocado that he was slicing for the eggs and toast Sam was frying and cooking. He tucked his loose hair behind both ears, revealing an asymmetrical set of piercings, and Bucky noticed an extra layer of intrigue swirling around those already-elusive hazel eyes. “Hi, pumpkin,” he said, voice low, sweet, and buttery-smooth.

Bucky laughed once at the unsolicited, ridiculous nickname but still felt the underlying air of tension between them, all of them. “Hi, Riley,” he said and watched Scott and Wanda silently excuse themselves, carrying mugs over to the porch swing, far from the kitchenette. Certainly not easing his uncertainty, Bucky crossed his arms. “Do you know where Steve is?”

Riley swallowed, lips tight, and he nodded. “Yes, hon.”

Following his lead, Bucky swallowed too, almost preparing himself to accept whatever Riley was about to say. He cast his gaze to the sunrise, peeking out from behind the clouds and painting the sky red with warning. “Where is he?”

“Bucky…” Riley started and trailed off, glancing at his partner for assistance, but Sam stared unwaveringly down at the sizzling pan. Wringing his hands in front of himself, Riley sighed. “Steve’s on a date.”

The ache beneath his skull transformed into a diatonic pitch, humming just above middle-C and just enough out of tune to make his entire body tighten on instinct. Bucky hoped that the sudden ringing in his ears impaired his ability to hear Riley correctly. “What?”

As much as it hurt to hear them, Riley’s apologetic eyes demonstrated that it was equally-painful to say the words. “When you were getting ready, Steve got a text, asking him to go on, like, a morning, breakfast date. He’s there now.”

Hearing more of the details unsurprisingly did not lessen the pain and did not lower the volume of the nagging buzz against his eardrums. In fact, hearing more of the details made the noise far worse, becoming nauseating and unbearable, but he refused to let the discomfort show. “Oh,” he said, as devoid of emotion as possible, feigning casual interest. “With who?”

Riley gave a small shrug, still speaking softly. “Don’t know. The text didn’t say.”

“Oh. Okay, well, that’s – good. Good for him.”

Seeming unconvinced, Riley held out his hand in support. “Do you want to talk?”

Bucky shook his head, almost hoping the motion would clear his mind. “No, that’s okay.”

He didn’t spare another glance behind him as he walked off the deck, descending the wooden steps to the pool area. Standing beside the daybeds, he couldn’t help but remind himself that only the day before, he had spent the day on one of them. Napping beside Steve, tucked into his side, wrapped in his arms, it was as if they had wasted countless afternoons in that position, practicing for years. Bucky wanted nothing more than to relive that sensation again. He wanted to crawl onto that padded bedding, revel in the feeling of long fingers carding through his hair, talk about everything and nothing at the same time–

When he felt the tingling-yet-jabbing pinpricks in his eyes, Bucky knew that he needed to find somewhere else to go, away from everyone else, alone, if he was going to cry again.

Almost all of the typical locations had someone there. He couldn’t go back to the kitchenette, couldn’t mask his tears as sweat in the gym, couldn’t even drown them away in the pool. Then, across from the pool, he saw the small hut that he hadn’t visited in what felt like ages. With Steve as a contestant, he felt no need to sit in that chair in front of the red light and lens, but maybe now was the perfect time to revisit it.

Finding the door unlocked, he stepped right into the confessional shack. Instead of a beautiful, blond man beside the camera, a beautiful young woman took his place. Thick, dark brown hair in spiral curls framed her heart-shaped face, and her cheeks were full when she smiled, teeth shining as bright as the silver star charm at her neck. She looked absolutely thrilled to see him but also like she had been expecting him, unsurprised. “Hi, Bucky Barnes. Care to have a seat?”

Numb to the concept of a complete stranger knowing his name and presumably much more, Bucky sat in his designated spot in front of the camera. Under the lights, he saw that she was much younger than he initially thought, like she had only graduated with her bachelor’s a few weeks prior. “Who are you?”

“I’m America,” she said simply, revealing nothing further.

Bucky nodded before remembering his pleasantries. “Nice to meet you.”

America skipped them. “Nat leaving last night really affected you. Want to talk about it?”

“Um.” Sharing his deep thoughts and intimate feelings with someone he barely knew? He sighed; he’d done it before and could do it again, especially with no Nat or Steve. _Fuck it_ , he could be honest with America _and_ America, looking at the girl and the lens. “Yeah. Seeing Nat voted off last night hurt a lot. This is one of her favorite shows of all time, and it was her dream to be here. Being here was the happiest I had seen her in a while, and I’m so glad that she had the chance to meet Clint, because it’s obvious that they have something really special. I just wish everyone else saw that too.”

Apparently taking his cues from Steve, America listened to him while looking down at her portfolio, scribbling notes on the clipboard. She looked up when he finished talking. “But how did that make you _feel_?”

He felt the corner of his mouth threaten to rise at the bluntness of her question, as she put on the tone of his psychiatrist. She was clearly more forward than Steve, but he could respect someone who knew what they wanted, how to get it, and didn’t bother with the sugarcoating.

“Devastated,” he said, answering her question. “I felt utterly destroyed. It felt like half of my soul had been ripped from my body. I mean, Nat was my support system, and she has been not only for being here on the show, but throughout my entire life. I’m honestly not sure what I’m going to do without her.”

“What about Steve?” she asked, a bit more cryptic but just as direct. “Where is he?”

Bucky forced himself to take a deep breath before replying, clasping his hands together tightly. “On a date.” He winced at the sound of his own voice and realized that saying it out loud made it even more real, but saying it out loud also encouraged it to pour out of his mouth. “He’s on a date with someone else. Someone I don’t know. And before you ask how that makes me feel, it makes me feel like shit. It makes me feel like the _other_ half of my soul was ripped out of me too, and _that_? That makes me feel pathetic that I am that far gone on someone I’ve known for maybe two weeks and that I’m actually taking this show seriously.”

He waited for her to reply, and when she remained quiet, he continued with a sigh, “But I can’t blame myself anymore, because he genuinely does make me happy. We get along like we’ve been friends forever, and last night, I ruined that. We didn’t even get the chance to clear the air this morning before he was whisked away to go on a date with this other person. I was ready, too. I knew exactly what I wanted to say but I couldn’t, and now, I wouldn’t be offended if he never wanted to hear it.”

“What were you going to say?”

He thought back to the carefully-crafted phrases he had put together in the shower, where he had heard them flow so naturally, so concisely. But he couldn’t truly recall a single one. Squeezing his hands together even tighter, he ducked his head in shame. “All I wanted to do was apologize. I crossed a line – I crossed _multiple_ lines. I know it’s no excuse, but I was angry and confused and scared and saying anything to justify the horrible things I was feeling, rationalizing something abstract into something black-and-white, like I always do. You have no idea how bad I want to take all the words back, but all I can do now is say that I’m sorry. And if he could find it in his heart to forgive me, I would suggest – well, not anymore.”

As he cleared his throat, stopping himself, America leaned forward. “No, go ahead. What would you have said?”

With all of his cards already thrown down on the green felt, he figured, _What was one more?_ “I would have asked if he wanted to be exclusive with me. Not necessarily my boyfriend, but like – _Christ_ , I don’t even know. Like my ‘almost-boyfriend’? That’s incredibly stupid, I know, but I just wanted to suggest that we only pursue each other. Obviously, that was before the date that he’s on now, so _now_ , all I could want is that he’s happy. And if he finds that happiness with someone else, then that’s amazing and I will only wish them the best.”

Getting the words off his chest truly felt like relief, despite being aimed at a piece of plastic and guided by a stranger. She nodded along, appearing sympathetic. “Are you going to still tell him that?”

Bucky offered America a weak smile, foregoing the production standard and looking directly at her to ask for her genuine advice. “Do you think I should?”

She replied succinctly with a quirked eyebrow.

So, Bucky prepared himself to follow her advice. Waiting for him to return, he sat alone on a deck chair by the pool, positioning himself to see down the pathway to the villa, so that when he saw Steve toting a gorgeous brunette past the wall of ivy, Bucky had a moment to combat his nerves. He swallowed the lump in his throat at the sight of a delicate hand wrapped around the crook in Steve’s elbow, where his had been the night before at the party. While the others rushed to greet Steve and his date, Bucky took his time as he ascended the steps, fighting back the swarm of butterflies that flooded his stomach.

The other Islanders formed a semicircle around the two, but Bucky still had a clear angle to examine ~~the~~ _his_ new competition. She wore a stunning red dress, tastefully cut to show off her model-worthy legs, made even more impressive by a pair of coordinating red pumps. Waves of warm brown, almost auburn hair fell naturally on her exposed shoulders, curling in just the right areas. Perfectly complementing Steve’s demeanor, she maintained a respectable, diplomatic air as she aimed her gaze over the entire group, showing everyone her show-stopping smile, gleaming white and painted cherry red. She briefly locked eyes with Bucky before carrying on her gaze to introduce herself.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Peggy Carter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, friends, to what has been affectionately named in my notes and outlines as "Angst Week." Naturally, when everything seems to be going a little too perfectly, we have to throw in some curveballs. 
> 
> I know that including Peggy in Stucky fanfic is a sore spot for some people, and in no way do I want to make anyone uncomfortable or alienate someone from enjoying this story. At the end of the day, this story is about celebrating the relationship that Steve and Bucky develop in this ridiculous environment, overcoming the hurdles that reality TV throws at them, and when I say "Happy Ending" in the tags, I absolutely mean it.
> 
> Still, if Peggy joining the cast makes you anxious to the point where you're unsure if you can enjoy the story, please let me know in the comments. (Maybe I can DM you separately with the basic idea of the upcoming chapters and let you know when it's "safe" to hop back on board.) Regardless of the solution we come up with (if anyone needs one 😅), I just want to reiterate that I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable with this story.
> 
> Steve/Bucky is my #1, forever and always, and the main focus of this story is /them/ and only them. (Now, that doesn't mean we can't toy with their emotions along the way 😉)
> 
> Alright, I think that about sums it up! There are still plenty, plenty of moments to look forward to in the upcoming chapters. (And SO much more to come in the rest of the story!) Even in the dark, we'll still find a whole lot of light. Trust me, everything will be okay, and when we get past the angst, you are absolutely going to LOVE the rest! 😊
> 
> (Hell, I think you'll enjoy some of the angst too 😉)


	20. Chapter 20

**Episode 20**

_Peggy Carter_ was a beautiful lady.

Aside from the obvious looks, she had a brilliant mind. After taking an interest in American politics, majoring in poli-sci as an international student from London, graduating with honors from Georgetown, she built her career in D.C., serving as a political strategy analyst for local news networks before landing a permanent, occasionally on-air gig with MSNBC. (Bucky couldn’t deny the feeling of goosebumps rising on his skin at how casually she dropped the names of O’Donnell, Reid, and Maddow, referencing the shows that she frequents.) If her work wasn’t impressive enough, she also devoted her free time to various green initiatives throughout the city and pursued analog photography, because _of course, she did_.

On one pass, getting closer for more personal introductions, Bucky found zero flaws. She had glowing skin, perfect teeth, and _goddammit_ , Bucky couldn’t even complain about her handshake. Her palm was soft and gentle, but her grip was firm and commanding. Of course, as she went around the circle, she repeated their names and her own in a lovely accent that Bucky could never compete with.

That seemed to be the general idea with Peggy Carter: he couldn’t compete.

But, as doubts and regrets swirled in his head, another hand reached out, lightly resting on his arm to shake him out of this mindset. He looked up to see Steve, and a different set of nerves flooded his veins. “Do you want to talk?” Steve asked him quietly, as Peggy was ushered off with some of the others, desperate to know more details about her work. (“How many Congress-people do you know?” “Have you met AOC?”)

Before he could second-guess himself, Bucky forced himself to nod. He followed Steve to adjacent deck chairs, so that they could sit close, knees brushing together, but not as close as lying on a daybed. A moment passed where they simply stared at each other – or past each other – until Bucky swallowed his nerves, thinking back to his confidence from the morning after speaking with America, and spoke up. “Steve, I need to–”

At the same time, Steve said, “Listen, Bucky–”

They both broke off, waited for each other to start, and then laughed at the awkward silence that ensued. Steve was the first to end that particular silence, voice falling more serious again. “Bucky, I should apologize to you.”

Bucky suppressed a laugh. “ _You_ should apologize? For what?”

“This date today that you knew nothing about. God, I’m sorry that it was–”

“No, Steve. Let’s start with last night. I need to apologize for my behavior. There is nothing excusable about the things I said and how I treated you, and I am so sorry.”

Steve listened, but he shook his head at the end. “You don’t have to apologize, Bucky. I’ve seen first-hand hundreds of these eliminations to know exactly how they make people feel, but I never considered how it could impact people so close. And, I, uh, have to admit that there are some things that I haven’t been completely truthful about with you.”

Swallowing instinctively, Bucky felt his eyebrows pinch closer together in concern. “Okay.”

“You were right,” Steve said, lowering his voice and looking disdainfully down at their mics. “It hurts me to say this out loud and not be able to tell you the specifics, so I’ll speak in generalities, okay? All of the stipulations in the contract are true, and yes, sometimes the production team acts on them.”

Heart sinking into his chest, Bucky must have made a move that looked as if was standing, because Steve grasped his hand to convince him to remain seated. Somehow, some way, he had been right in his mindless ramblings.

Breaths becoming shallower and uneven, he was practically hyperventilating, and Steve brought him back down to earth by clarifying, “ _In the past_. We’ve – they’ve done that in the past, but not last night. Last night was completely fair, and I essentially violated multiple parts of my own contract to find that out by talking to my old friends, because I couldn’t sleep while feeling like a complete and utter douchebag for being associated with people who would even think of doing something like that. And trust me, if they lied to me and did rig something, then they are no friends of mine for hurting you like that.”

Bucky considered those implications, realizing the weight of that statement with startling clarity. Did Steve really mean to imply that he was willing to drop the coworkers he knew for seven years for the man he knew for two _weeks_? His hand still in Steve’s sparked pinpricks of electricity that burst on every inch of skin that was connected. “Steve, I don’t know what to say. That means so much to me.”

Steve kept his eyes low. “There’s something else that you deserve to know.”

“Okay.” Bucky nodded and braved the uncertainty to ask, “What?”

“The reason why you’re on the show.” His grip grew tighter on Bucky’s hand, but Bucky had no problem supporting it, as Steve appeared to wander through a maze in his mind, deciding the proper words. Seeming ready, Steve inhaled deeply and exhaled with a sigh. “During the casting process, Nat was an obvious choice. Principal ballerina, beautiful, smart, sharp wit, strong social media presence; everyone agreed that she had to be on the show. But, no one advocated for choosing you. You were serious, cynical, uninterested, and your only social media is a Facebook page for your practice that hasn’t been updated in five years, but there was something about you that I couldn’t move past. I decided that I had to do something to convince everyone to let you on the show, and I would do just about anything.”

Bucky swallowed. “Okay, like what?”

“I promised them that you and Nat would be a couple by the end of the season, the winning couple. It was a perfect romantic story: childhood best friends turned lovers as adults. I was ready to devote all of my time producing you two to get together, but then, I met you both. I realized almost immediately that you two were truly only friends, and I was surprised. My instincts were usually never wrong. I was even more surprised to realize that I started falling for you, and _god_ , did that scare me. I felt guilty too, wondering if all that time I spent arguing that you two were a perfect couple, was I really just hoping to keep you for myself? When it was clear that there was no way that you and Nat would be romantically interested in each other, I decided that I absolutely _had_ to be on this season to explore this connection that I have with you.”

_Wow_.

Bucky racked his brain for a different reaction, a better reaction, but all he could think of was just _wow_. He believed him, knowing that it made perfect sense, as he recalled the way that Steve brought up Nat in one of their first discussions. He appreciated hearing the truth in such an earnest manner. While Steve spoke, it was obvious that he was nervous. He tripped over the jumble of words that fell from his mouth, some rushed, some hurried, but none planned in advance like his speeches. His eyes shifted around Bucky, occasionally avoiding him entirely, but not like he was lying. The few times that their eyes met, the wholehearted honesty was evident in the clear, serene seaside-blue. Bucky wanted nothing more than to hold him closer, draw him in, wrap his arms around him, tell him that he felt the same, and never, ever let go.

But before he could do that, Steve continued with a huff of laugh. “I’m sorry that was such a mess and so much to throw at you at once, and that’s why I’m sorry about last night too. I still hadn’t told you all this and I was suggesting that maybe we be exclusive without even taking into consideration your feelings. You were absolutely right that I was moving too fast, and you reminded me that there was still so much that we don’t know about each other. You didn’t come onto the show for the same reason I did. I’ve been projecting onto you my own hopes of what we _could_ have that I overlooked what we actually have, which you’re right about. It’s not much.”

“Oh,” Bucky croaked out, and it physically hurt him to hear that Steve thought he viewed their relationship as ‘not much’ and that he wouldn’t want to be exclusive when that was very, very much what Bucky wanted. Something about the way that Steve seemed utterly convinced made him nod anyway. “Right.”

“I wish that we could have spoken before the date this morning. To confirm all that with you before meeting someone else. I wasn’t entirely sure how to approach it. Obviously, I had no choice but to go, because that’s how the show works, but was I supposed to take it seriously as an actual date? It didn’t feel right to do that, though, knowing that you were back at the villa, completely unaware.”

Bucky felt the sigh of relief tighten in his throat when Steve kept talking. “But, then, I remembered that you probably wanted us to take a step back, and when I sat down with Peggy, I couldn’t deny the connection we had. The conversation flowed so easily, and we have so much in common. She’s really amazing. I mean, her work in politics alone is incredible, and I’ve always said that if I wasn’t working on this show, I’d want to make campaign videos for the DNC. I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t see a future with her, but I’m definitely getting ahead of myself again.”

Thankful to hear Steve take a moment to clear his throat, Bucky allowed his gaze to drift to the woman he described so fondly. The others were taking to her as quickly as Steve, smiling and laughing at her stories already, and as much as he selfishly wished he could, Bucky couldn’t disagree with a single one of Steve’s points about her. A shaky breath gave him the capacity, when he turned back to face Steve, to say, “That’s great. She sounds perfect for you.”

“You really think so?” Steve asked, almost bewildered and breathless.

Placing the knife to his own chest, Bucky nodded. “I do,” he said and stabbed it right through skin and bone.

Steve appeared to believe him, and he smiled. Maybe he was imagining it, but Bucky could see a sense of hollowness in Steve’s eyes, something insincere, like he was forcing himself to put on a happy face. “So, if a recoupling was announced soon and she chose to recouple with me, you wouldn’t be offended if I tried to explore something with her?”

Bucky forced himself to shake his head, taking in the radiant grin that he once loved to see, remembering what he told America about Steve’s happiness. Which is why the words that followed weren’t entirely a lie. “She’s gorgeous, Steve. She’s intelligent and independent and everything that you could possibly want. You could really find something special with her, and I’d feel guilty if I let you pass up that opportunity.”

Looking down at their clasped hands, knees brushing together, Bucky watched as Steve pulled away. It ached his bleeding heart, but Steve offered a slight consolation in the form of a brief hug. “Thank you, Bucky,” he said with his head resting on his shoulder.

When they separated, Bucky found himself able to fake a smile. “You don’t have to thank me. Just promise me that you’ll be happy with her, okay?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky remained in his chair, as he watched Steve pull Peggy from the group to speak with her alone, off to the side where he first played with Bucky’s hair and told him that he was going to pick him in the first recoupling. It felt like a lifetime of memories had been formed in the week that had passed between them since then, and Bucky saw precisely how he had lit a match to that progress, knowing that there was no one else to blame than himself for the ensuing fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, if only Bucky could find the courage to speak up and Steve could find the courage to shut up, not afraid to take the plunge into the unknown to learn that they want they exact same thing, so much heartache could be avoided. Not being afraid to take risks, not being afraid to be vulnerable, not being afraid to love. Sounds like a good moral of the story, huh? 😉
> 
> I cannot say thank you enough to the people who have shared their thoughts in the comments or left kudos or shared the story with friends. Even during these tricky parts, I hope you still feel encouraged to let me know how you're feeling, knowing that there are still so many FUN and exciting and silly and steamy moments to come in the future. 
> 
> Tomorrow, those of you who live for the angst and pining will receive a nice little treat in the form of one of my all-time favorite angsty openings I have ever written, as well as a bit of levity, thanks to two incredible friends there to offer some support. 💜


	21. Chapter 21

**Episode 21**

Leaning his back against the deck chair, alone, Bucky stared at the pool. He allowed himself to be hypnotized by the way that waves formed on their own volition with no one there to cause them. Ever-rippling, ever-changing triangular shapes rose and fell with the breeze, no two ever alike. The clear crystal water picked up colors of the blue stone at the bottom and lilac-colored siding, the golden setting sun and the pink patio furniture, radiating back a never-ending prism of colors. Kaleidoscope water. He could have watched it for hours.

Something about the pervasive stench of chlorine must have had a numbing effect, because he was starting to like the scent. He wished that smelling the chemical did the same for his emotions. In his chest, he felt empty. As empty as the ebbing and flowing pool in front of him, automatic waves rippled through him – sadness, loneliness, regret. He tried to push those feelings to the edges of his mind, knowing that if any part of him ever truly cared about Steve, he should have felt happy for him. He _wanted_ to feel happy for him, but every time that he heard Steve’s laughter in the distance, recognizing the sound immediately, all he felt was…sadness, loneliness, regret.

The sadness started immediately after his conversation with Steve, or if he was being more honest with himself, it probably started _during_ the conversation. But, regardless of when it started, it loomed over him, dark and hazy, clouding his mind and making him feel hollow. It felt like grief, mourning the loss of the what-could-have-been, as he laid to rest the few naïve fantasies that he allowed himself late at night with warm breath tickling the back of his neck.

The loneliness reminded him of more than the absence of Steve. It reminded him that the one person he could talk to about Steve was gone too, and _that_ made him feel disgust, like he was betraying her by his mere existence in this godforsaken place. He wished that he had refused to submit that first application, found a way to convince her to audition alone, crafted an excuse before getting on the damn plane, and well, those thoughts quickly spiraled into the regret.

The regret felt somehow darker, colder than the other two, because he knew that it was rooted in something greener. ( _Jealousy_.) It coursed through him bitterly, burning and acidic, magnified by the joyful squeal that Peggy made when she received her first text, informing them that there so-conveniently would be a recoupling that night. Oh, it flowed freely when she lowered her phone and told them that she would have to make a good impression quickly before turning back to Steve with a knowing grin. A wink. A nudge. Not a single glance from either of them cast in Bucky’s direction.

So, that led to Bucky gawking at the pool with a vacant expression in his eyes, hidden behind the 7/11 sunglasses, as he curled himself into a ball, feeling sad, lonely, and regretful.

Serving as a brief interruption from his melancholy, a shadow blocked his direct line of sight to the clear and colorful water. He turned his head to see Clint join him on the deck chair to his right. “I, uh, imagine you’ve done the math for tonight,” Clint said.

Bucky tried to shake his head out of the daze with a nod.

“Twelve Islanders,” Clint summarized anyway. “Everyone gets a partner. The three new ones pick first. Scott picks Wanda, Maria picks Carol, and Peggy picks Steve.” He hesitated when giving the final option, wincing empathetically for Bucky, who nodded again. “Then, Thor picks Val, because he’s secretly liked her since day one, and Riley picks Sam, because they’re practically married by now, and that leaves me and you.”

Finding the words still difficult to admit out loud, Bucky nodded for a third time.

“Are you okay with that?” Clint asked, apology written across his eyes.

A fourth nod felt too much like admitting defeat, so Bucky cleared his throat and attempted to crack a monotone joke. “Not like we have much of a choice, right?”

Gladly welcoming the change of tone, Clint smirked. “Well, you can act a _little_ happier to be my partner.”

“Sorry,” Bucky said with a sigh, already giving up on the lighthearted humor. “Really, I’m sorry. It’s not you–”

Clint gasped in mock disgust. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you even think about hitting me with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line. I know where you live, Bucky Barnes. Sort of.”

Even his trifecta of feeling like shit couldn’t prevent the smile that formed on Bucky’s lips. “Sorry,” he repeated.

Clint shrugged and dropped the act to talk more candidly, speaking like he would to a close friend, rather than the best friend of the person he was almost-dating on a reality show. “Listen, man, neither of us want to be in this position right now. If it was up to me, I would have left with her, which I know is what you wanted to do too, but she wanted me to stay and meet more people. She didn’t want me to miss out on the opportunity to find someone special, but I’m well aware that I already have. So, my plan is to tough it out for a week, stay like she asked, and then hopefully get out of here as soon as I can.”

Bucky began to thank him, giving his blessing of sorts, but Clint had more to explain. “For _you_ , though,” Clint said, “if you had any thoughts about leaving the show, she wanted me to tell you that you two wouldn’t be friends anymore. And when you get home, all of your kitchen cabinets and dresser drawers will be superglued shut.”

Letting out a huff of a laugh, Bucky knew that he should have expected nothing less and maybe needed to reconsider giving her a spare key to his apartment. “Okay,” Bucky said, and even though he didn’t necessarily feel _better_ , he did feel lighter, brighter almost.

Clint rose from his chair, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Alright, you ready to get ready for this shindig, Barnes?”

Bucky looked around to see most of the Islanders had already gone inside, finally breaking the spell of the captivating pool. “Yeah, I think so.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

As he stood in front of his closet, missing Nat’s guidance, a perfectly-timed set of arms snaked around his waist from behind, which would have scared him if he hadn’t watched their owner not-so-sneakily sneak up to him. “Hi, sugarbear,” Riley cooed into his ear with his chin propped on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hear me out,” Bucky suggested, meeting Riley’s eyes in the mirror. “Next time, you just try using my name.”

“What do you mean?”

“Instead of a nickname, try _Bucky_.”

“Okay,” Riley said, tightening his grasp and clearing his throat before starting again. “Hi there, Bucky… _bear_?”

Bucky rolled his eyes but still smiled, as Riley stepped to his side, allowing one arm to linger. Even though he wasn’t exactly the blond whose arms he hoped to be in, Bucky leaned appreciatively into his warm embrace, breathing in a clean, slightly-floral fragrance that wafted off of Riley’s sunkissed skin. After vaguely knowing him for over two weeks, Bucky still gathered that that scent spoke to Riley’s spirit: always running through a field of wildflowers.

As Carol, Val, Scott, and Clint were getting ready in the same room, Riley lowered his voice, adding a more serious tone quality. “How are you feeling about tonight?”

With a shrug, Bucky sighed. “It is what it is.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry–”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“–You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

Bucky gave him a weak smile, lips twitching, and repeated, “ _It is what it is_.”

Almost in disbelief, exasperated, Riley shook his head. “You know they’ll let her pick first, right?”

“I know.”

“Has she even talked to you yet? Privately? About choosing your partner?” When Bucky shook _his_ head, Riley threw up his hands in disgust. “Unbelievable. When I chose your partner in that first coupling, at least I had the _decency_ to say sorry. Who does she think she is? Walking in here and breaking up one of the strongest couples, right after you’ve had your heart broken and–”

“Riley,” Bucky interrupted him before his voice rose any higher. “I think you’re more upset than I am right now.”

Blinking, nearly chasing himself to the brink of tears, Riley released a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s just upsetting to me to think that she didn’t take your feelings into account in the slightest – _or_ Steve’s, for that matter.”

From years of practice in arguing, a voice in the back of Bucky’s mind spoke for him. “I can’t speak on behalf of her thoughts, and as for Steve, I told him to couple up with her.”

Riley narrowed his eyes, as if that would help him hear or understand better. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Because I want him to be with the person that makes him happy, and if that’s not me, then that’s okay,” Bucky replied, practically automatic at this point.

“Okay, that’s fair. But who makes _you_ happy?”

Bucky allowed that question to remain unanswered, looking back to their reflections, as a familiar darkness crept over him.

Riley understood that Bucky was unwilling to discuss that particular topic any further, and after taking a resetting, cleansing breath, he changed the subject to something that made him smile. “So, what are you wearing tonight?”

“How about this?” Bucky asked, pulling out the first button-down that he touched.

The color drained from Riley’s face in an instant. “Oh, no. No, no. You need something hot, something sexy that’ll remind Steve exactly what he’ll be missing over the next week. Do you trust me?”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “Not quite?”

Ignoring his response completely, Riley moved over to his own closet. “Good, because I have the perfect outfit.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

When he slipped the final button through its hole, Bucky looked his reflection up and down with uncertainty. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“You should feel like the hottest bitch in the room, blue eyes.”

Bucky wasn’t certain if it actually accentuated those eyes, but the sheerness of the top – black solid outlines around the collar, wrists, and middle, filled in with black lace – certainly made them widen, leaving not much to the imagination. “It seems wrong that you can see my nipples on semi-formal night. Should I be wearing another shirt underneath this?”

“Not with those abs,” Riley quipped, tying a black ribbon around the collar in a loose bow.

Pushing aside the initial shock of seeing so much skin, Bucky could definitely see that this garment was – _sensual_? “Funny how I sat around all day without wearing a shirt, but this seems even more revealing. Indecent.”

“Because it’s testing you,” Riley said, quick to respond. “When you’re topless, it’s kinda free-reign where your eyes fall, look-where-you-look, but when you’re in _this_? Oh, sugar, it’s tempting you, teasing you, practically begging you to take a little peek, but not too much. You’re in control, babe.”

Well, with that explanation, Bucky definitely felt the effect, giving himself a sly grin. “Alright, then. What next?”

“These pants.” Riley handed him the pair that he draped over the chair at Bucky’s vanity. “Now, they’ll probably come a little higher than you’re used to, but they’re supposed to because they’re high-waisted. They’re big on me, which means they’ll probably fit you perfectly, which is _not_ shade thrown at you, because I’m missing the ass that fills them and you got it. The belt around the waist ties into a bow in the front. And, if you’ll let me, I’ll tie another in your hair. Just a few strands from each side over top of your flowing, natural curls in the back. Bows, bows, bows.”

Without a single nerve in his body willing to fight, Bucky simply grinned. “I’m starting to think that I’m just your dress-up doll, Riley.”

Riley grinned right back. “Oh, wow, my dress-up doll has a brain too.”

The pants were tight, especially over his ass, and higher than normal, but they were thankfully a standard, dress pants fabric that couldn’t be seen-through. The bow around his waist of the same fabric matched the one around his collar and the one that Riley tied into his hair, creating a small ponytail over the rest of his long hair. _Bows, bows, bows_ was apparently the theme of the evening. It was cute; it was more than cute, sexy even, maybe verging on promiscuous, and it was oddly enough exactly what he needed to find his confidence that evening.

Riley’s reassurance also helped with that. As they both stared into the mirror, Riley brushed off his shoulders and straightened the fabric from his angle before sighing. “Next week, it’ll be Steve’s turn to choose, and if he doesn’t pick you, I think I just might. You truly are beautiful, Bucky.”

Bucky turned to face him directly. “You called me Bucky.”

“Well, that’s your name, apple butter. Now, let _me_ get changed, and let’s rock this recoupling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to good friends and sexy clothes, am I right?
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone still sticking with me and interacting with the story even when times are a little tricky. I really appreciate how much trust you're putting in me to resolve this dramatic nonsense, and I can guarantee you that it's all going to be more than worth it! 😊
> 
> 🎧 "i feel 2 much" - blackbear 
> 
> (It's been a minute since we've had a song rec! When I first wrote this chapter, despite it being so emotion-driven in the beginning, I never had a specific song in mind, but then, last week, Blackbear had to go SO hard on this new EP that I simply had to include a song from it. This one is absolutely perfect for representing Bucky's emotions in this part of the story, and when that first chorus hits? Oof, you're gonna completely understand what I was ranting about in the first few chapters 😅)
> 
> Tomorrow...we start our 3rd week on the Island with a recoupling (yay...) See you there! 🏝


	22. Chapter 22

**Episode 22**

Sauntering down the ivy-lined walkway, holding his own against a TopTM model, turned out to be less fun without Steve to impress on the other side. That evening, Clint took his place, waiting in the kitchenette. “Woah, Bucky, you look awesome.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said with an accompanying, appreciative sigh, still a bit self-conscious about wearing something so revealing.

“Care for a drink?” Clint asked and gestured to the two glasses in front of him.

“To get through tonight? Yes, please.”

Raising his eyebrows, Clint watched Bucky take a healthy gulp of the spiked seltzer, downing half of it in one go. “Yeah, that’s the spirit.”

Down a level on the deck, Riley greeted Sam beside one of the daybeds. As soon as he saw him approach, Sam poured out compliments, face glowing from his beaming grin. Riley had changed into one of his signature jumpsuits, made of a shiny silver fabric that could have been ripped out of a cult-classic, 80’s sci-fi movie but also worn on the most prestigious runway. Of course, Riley knew that he looked excellent, stunning, _divine, angelic, unbelievable_ , and all the other adjectives that Sam peppered him with, making Riley blush. He squealed as Sam lifted him off the ground, like he weighed no more than one of the feathers that dangled from his ears on studs.

_God_ , Bucky realized, _they were perfect for each other_.

For someone who came onto this show vowing that soulmates were more fiction than fact, that was a surprising thought, but it was true. They complemented each other perfectly. Sam never once did a double-take regarding Riley’s eccentricities, accepting his unique style and mannerisms at face-value and embracing them as his own, and Riley mirrored Sam’s never-ceasing optimism, all smiles and bubbly laughter. Together, they were more radiant than the sun and moon combined and created their own cosmic gravitational pull that always commanded the others’ attention in every situation. With that level of chemistry, this early on, Bucky could easily picture their relationship lasting for the entire summer, a year, a few years.

Hell, _forever_ even seemed to be a confident bet.

Bucky smiled a little sadly into his plastic cup, because at the same time that he reflected on Sam and Riley’s perfect relationship, he spotted Steve emerging from the bedroom. As always, he made Bucky swallow his nerves, looking incredible, but this time, in a pale blue dress shirt that caused his eyes to pop even more. Bucky wanted nothing more than to compliment him, just as Sam was still gushing over Riley. Unfortunately, Peggy hovered by his side, and _dammit_ , she looked amazing, too. Exchanging the bright red for a deep, luxurious emerald green, the velvet material clung to her curves in all the right ways, appearing expensive without a designer label and seductive without a copious amount of exposed flesh.

Steve joined Thor at the fire pit, who was sitting with Val in their apparently coordinated outfits, all white with gold accents, leaning into the golden god imagery. Bucky expected Peggy to follow him, but no, she was walking toward – oh, she was walking toward _him_. “Could I perhaps steal Bucky for a moment?” she asked when she reached the kitchenette.

Bucky took another gulp of his drink.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot,” Peggy said once they settled in the secluded seating area in the corner of the deck.

Bucky kept himself from letting out an ugly, mocking laugh. “Yeah, these weren’t exactly the best circumstances for making a new friend.”

“Right.” Watching her look down at her clasped hands through mascara-coated lashes, Bucky realized that he sounded far more biting than he intended. She met his eyes when she was ready to speak again. “Bucky, I’m really sorry about your friend. Obviously, I don’t know her, and to be fair, I don’t know you either. But I do know that this timing was very unfair for you, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said, grateful for her willingness to have this conversation with him, “but you don’t have to apologize to me.”

Pausing, her next words seemed harder to admit. “I feel like I should, though, because it’s clear that I have feelings for the same person that you do.”

Reminded of scalding water, Bucky clenched down on his back molars. This information was not new to him, but it still hurt to receive the confirmation. “Right.”

“I can’t deny my immediate attraction to him. He’s remarkable. He’s so driven and ambitious, and I can just tell that his heart is in the right place. He’s intelligent…”

_You don’t have to tell me this_ , Bucky wanted to interrupt. _You don’t have to tell me that he’s the most wonderful person in this villa. You don’t have to tell me that he wholeheartedly commits to every project, following his goals to an extent that_ passionate _was an understatement. That he had that motto permanently transcribed on his thigh. You don’t have to tell me the names of his coworkers or the way that he speaks fondly of the interns because they remind him of his own experiences. You don’t have to tell me that he makes dark jokes about his childhood because it was rougher than he wishes to admit, and it was his mother who shaped that resilient but caring heart. You don’t have to tell me how brilliant his mind is and that he’s far more complex than his good looks. You don’t have to tell me that he likes to lose his hands in your hair during the day to make you giggle and use them to map out your legs beneath the covers late at night to make you shiver. You don’t have to tell me what his mouth tastes like or how soft his lips feel against your throat or that he bites your bottom lip before slipping in his tongue. (You don’t have to tell he may be the only person in this villa deserving of finding love.)_

But Bucky didn’t say any of these things.

He didn’t say anything at all, letting her wax on and on in her own terms, telling him all the things about Steve that she just learned and he already knew. There was something so honest and earnest about the way that she spoke, unable to stop herself from raving about the incredible man she had met. He couldn’t even blame her, because he felt the same way after their own first date, completely incapable of shutting his mouth to Nat, who patiently listened.

Now, he sat in Nat’s role, shifting his teeth to dig into his cheek until he tasted blood to maintain a fake smile. When Peggy finally finished, shaking her head with a silent laugh and scolding herself for ranting like a schoolgirl, Bucky nodded, resting a hand on top of hers in support. “I know.”

“So, you won’t be offended if I choose him in the recoupling?” she asked, sounding hopeful in the way that she held her breath in her throat.

He looked at her apologetic-yet-optimistic eyes and then over to Steve, who seemed entirely unaware of this conversation taking place, as he playfully punched Thor in the arm, laughing at a comment he made. He looked at Sam and Riley, who were lying on a daybed together, flat on their backs, tangled in each other’s limbs in the perfect position to gaze up at the stars, but they stared only at each other, seeing only the beauty of the other man and not the beauty above them. They were each other’s world, and if Peggy and Steve had the opportunity to have something as spectacular as that, then who the hell was Bucky to interfere?

Turning back to Peggy, Bucky shook his head. “Of course not.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

They were instructed to stand beside each other at the recoupling, conveniently positioned around the fire pit so that when Steve’s eyes passed over them, Bucky could hold out hope that he was looking at him before his gaze settled on Peggy. On his other side, Riley squeezed his hand, a brief comfort and momentary reassurance that hope could still be found.

Apparently having used their Janet quota for the week and since no one was going home, they were instructed to run the ceremony by themselves with a producer giving Maria the ‘okay’ to start. Everyone could feel the tension in the air, the electricity humming at a low decibel underneath everyone’s skin. To clear her own mind, Maria took a breath, steadying herself, and spoke to clear the air. “I was so terribly nervous to come here. Like most of us, I’ve been watching the show for years, seeing all these pretty, young social media socialites get together and fall in love and then fall out of love before getting back together. I loved it, and I never once imagined that I would be here, starting my own journey. I never thought that this experience would be so _real_ , and now that I’m here, I’m realizing that it’s actually possible to find something genuine here. It’s only been a few days for me, so I don’t want to make any huge claims, but I truly appreciate this Islander welcoming me with open arms, and I would love to continue to get to know her every step of the way. So, the person I would like to couple up with is…” She paused for the effect before finishing with, “Carol.”

Despite splitting one of the couples who had been together since the first day, no one was too surprised after seeing how much time they had spent with each other. Even Val clapped along with the others, as Maria and Carol embraced before taking their seats around the fire pit.

Next up was Scott, and he offered another lighthearted speech. “Wow, this has been a wild ride so far. I can’t believe I’m really doing one of these little talks. It’s been awesome getting to know you all, but I think it’s clear that one person in particular has caught my eye. Ever since our first date, I knew that we would get along. It’s so easy to talk to you. We have serious conversations but plenty of silly ones too, debating philosophy and cracking Star Trek jokes until three in the morning. You’ve accepted me for everything that I am, everything that I’ve been through, and I look forward to continuing those late-night conversations with…Wanda.”

Thrilled for Wanda to finally be in a non-platonic couple, the applause reached a more excited pitch with a couple _woo_ ’s thrown in from Thor and Riley. As much as he wished to feel happy for them, Bucky couldn’t help but acknowledge the obvious fact of who was next to choose, nerves fluttering in his stomach, pressure building in his chest. He started to actively hold his breath when a producer told Peggy to begin, and the atmosphere around them grew thick and heavy again, humidity not the only cause to blame.

Seemingly feeling this tension, Peggy held her hands in front of her, nervously twiddling her thumbs. When she spoke, though, she spoke with conviction. “I didn’t come here to be a villain. I didn’t come here to break up a couple for fun. I came here like everyone else: to find love. And I know that I’ll never find that if I don’t take some risks, and I’d be foolish to not explore a relationship with someone who I felt such a strong connection with as soon as we met. This person obviously has a deeper connection with someone else here.”

At those words, Bucky felt the attention immediately turn to him, searching for a reaction. He kept his face to the ground, the plastic grass, before feeling another pair of eyes implore him, and there was something familiar, warm and encouraging, in this pair. He looked up to see Steve staring back, as if only then realizing the reality of the situation. Steve’s eyes were intent but hazy, crystal blue clouded with gray, almost sorrowful, pleading for unneeded forgiveness and making Bucky wish that he could give _him_ the apology.

He tried to do so with a bittersweet half-smile, raising one corner of his mouth.

Steve continued to watch Bucky with his sad, beautiful eyes, as Peggy continued to talk, “I don’t expect those feelings to simply vanish, and I don’t want them to stop pursuing their relationship because I’m here. But, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to deny my own feelings for this person, and I feel _very_ strongly about him. I have the instant that I laid eyes on him. With that being said, the person that I would like to couple up with is…” During the pause, Bucky hoped that she would say any other name – Val, Clint, Sam all available, _please God that he didn’t even believe in_ – but, of course, she finished by saying, “Steve.”

When the others began to applaud, reluctantly at first but growing to a steady pace, Steve tore his gaze away from Bucky and accepted Peggy’s embrace, joining her at the fire pit.

( _Sadness, loneliness, regret, sadness, loneliness, regret, sadness_ …)

Bucky found this mantra running on repeat, looped in the back of his mind, in the front, in every corner of his brain. He couldn’t escape the feelings in the same way that he sat transfixed at the edge of the pool, waves moving in a practiced routine, starting without his impetus. The world moved around him, while he remained frozen in place. He needed time to settle and adjust, but a producer called for Thor to speak as soon as Steve and Peggy sat down – _together_.

Desperately, he wanted to listen to the next speech and absorb himself in the exhilaration that Thor felt in being able to choose Val, who he admitted to secretly pining over for weeks. He wanted to feel the same joy that Thor felt in being able to pull Val into a tight hug, but he was only reminded of the sight of how naturally Peggy’s face fit against the junction between Steve’s neck and chest.

He felt empty and continued to feel empty even when Riley spoke about Sam – his new-found friend gushing over the pilot who “may be the man of his dreams” – because even that was a reminder of everything that he had given up that evening.

With no one else standing beside him and only one person in front of him, Bucky was forced to accept his fate, the fate that he encouraged. Faking a smile, Bucky prepared himself to improvise something about Clint. “And then there were two,” he started with, earning a few (perhaps forced) chuckles from the rest of the Islanders around him. He sighed and hoped that Riley’s clothes would provide him with the same confidence that he felt when ogling his reflection in the mirror. “This obviously isn’t where either of us were hoping to be tonight, but I’m going to take advantage of this opportunity as much as I can.”

That optimistic approach seemed to surprise Clint, the other Islanders, and even himself.

Unfazed, he continued, leaning into the absurdity of hyping up some kind of mystery when there was only one option that he could choose. “In all honesty, I don’t know this Islander very well, but I do know that he’s a great guy, because he helped to make my best friend’s time here the most amazing experience of her life. This Islander made her laugh and made her feel comfortable, and when I was struggling to cope with some – well, _challenging_ emotions, he helped me feel the same way. So, even though we may be partnered as friends only, I look forward to getting to know this person better, because I have a feeling that he will continue to be in my life after the competition. In honor of Natalia Romanov, the person that I would like to be coupled with is…” He paused, waiting just a little too long that it was almost uncomfortable. “Clint.”

After embracing him in a platonic hug, Bucky turned to the others, realizing that so much had changed. All twelve of them were in their new couples, and only one of those couples remained the same. Standing far from Steve, as a beautiful woman curled into his side and he curled into her, Bucky realized that this would be a long night and a long week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week down! We've officially gone through 3 full weeks together, if you can believe it! (I personally can't 😅)
> 
> I touched on this in my note yesterday, but I think it's worth repeating to say thank you so much to every single one of you giving this story a read, especially at this moment. Angst isn't everyone's favorite, but I think these chapters make a huge difference in not only making this relationship believable, but making it worthwhile, and as a reader, I know it takes a lot to trust a writer to get through the angst. So I truly cannot thank you enough for giving me that trust! Thank you to everyone interacting, either with kudos or comments or sharing it with friends! This is by far the greatest response I've ever received on a story, and as someone who one day dreams of building a living off of writing silly stories like these, all of your responses are unbelievably encouraging! 
> 
> (Alright, I'll hop off my soapbox 😅)
> 
> Coming up this week...the continuation (and end? 🤔) of Angst Week. We'll have a challenge, some laughs, some good conversations, some Steve/Bucky interactions, and (my favorite part) a DANCE! Make sure you're coming back to the Island every single day, because you're not gonna want to miss a single part! 😜


	23. Chapter 23

**Episode 23**

“Wanna sleep with me and Sammie tonight?” Riley asked, propped up against a mountain of pillows in his bed, as soon as Bucky entered the bedroom.

Holding the sip of water in his mouth before swallowing it, Bucky shook his head. “I think I’m okay.”

“You sure? We can leave some space between us for you to crawl into later. You know how little kiddos have nightmares and work up the courage to go to their parents’ room? Then, they stand at the foot of their bed before climbin’ in, snuggling up and getting comfy in between Mom and Dad?”

Bucky stared, blinking once or twice. “Uh huh?”

“Well, you’re welcome to do that anytime, okay?”

“Okay.” Unconvinced but amused, Bucky turned his attention a bit to the right. “And how do you feel about that, Sam?”

After placing his glasses on the nightstand and dropping a quick kiss to Riley’s shoulder, Sam contentedly nestled into his single pillow with a shrug. “Whatever makes him happy. If it were up to me, though, no offense Bucky, the only person I want to be getting comfy with tonight is this beauty.”

When the tickles and giggles started, Bucky walked away before any of it moved beneath the covers.

He found Clint in what used to be his bed with Nat and realized for a second time that evening that he would be taking her place. It was as unsettling a thought as it was to be in the bed _beside_ Steve, knowing that there was someone else, essentially a stranger, taking his own place in the only bed that he had grown accustomed to in the villa. Pulling him out of those thoughts, Clint asked, “Do you prefer the right or left? I figured you’d want the left – my left, that is – since that’s where you’ve been. I guess it’s your right, right now, though. Well, now, I’m confused and probably overthinking this, but I didn’t want to assume or make that decision for you."

Bucky moved to that unoccupied side of the bed, his right/Clint’s left, with a light laugh. “This is fine. Thanks, Clint.”

Being as far as possible from the bed where Steve would join Peggy was _extra_ fine. 

When Steve did enter the room, Bucky didn’t feel the normal rising excitement in his blood but, instead, a sinking, twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt more like he was facing a four-hour final exam than the stunning man that he had spent almost three weeks getting to know deeply, ~~intimately~~. That dark, plummeting feeling turned into a sharp jab at the sight of him sliding under the covers of the bed that used to be theirs beside somebody else. He wanted to look away, wanted to look away so desperately, but there was something so sickeningly infatuating about stealing glances, like the pain felt – _good?_ Gratifying, maybe, to indulge in an ugly emotion, justifying his envy and letting it take control.

The lights going out ended his ability to peek glimpses at the other bed, but it did nothing to put those hideous thoughts to rest. Thankfully, that’s where Clint Barton came into play, resting a comforting hand on Bucky’s arm beneath the sheets. “It’s gonna be okay, Bucky. I promise.”

In those words, Bucky felt Nat’s spirit. He could imagine her telling him to keep pushing forward, reminding him of the struggles that they experienced together – bullies and school and loss. If he could get through that, she would say, he could get through the boy he likes having a sleepover with someone else on a reality show.

From that perspective, he almost laughed, and he repeated those words in his head, using them to lull himself to sleep.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Bucky tossed and turned through an off-and-on night of sleep, unable to find a comfortable position. Worried that he would disturb Clint if he moved any more, he locked himself into awkward pose after awkward pose, freezing and contorting his muscles just shy of painful until he could no longer take it before slowly and carefully readjusting into another pose that he would immediately hate. It was a cycle of discomfort that in no way resembled how he had been able to sleep over the previous few days: blissfully drifting off in the arms of an incredible man.

He couldn’t help but wonder if that was how Peggy found herself falling asleep, and now that that thought was in his head, _fuck_ , he couldn’t stop thinking it. Steve was a tactile person who slipped his arms around him, molding their bodies together, so easily, but did Peggy want that? Wrapped in the wide breadth of warm, firm muscle pressed against her back, _of course, she did_. Who wouldn’t? She would most likely sleep soundly through the night, while Steve inhaled and exhaled deep breaths along her neck, breathing in and out the sweet scent of her hair, and Bucky would turn for the hundredth time, mentally apologizing to Clint.

When the lights flashed on in the morning, Bucky noticed them in his periphery, having found an almost-comfortable position that essentially twisted his spine and planted his face into his pillow. He groaned, down feathers muffling the sound. Rolling onto his back woke up Clint in the process, who greeted him with a confused noise that wasn’t too far off from his childhood dog being woken from a puppy-dream. “What’s happening?” Clint asked, sounding delirious with his words slurred.

Stretching his legs, pointing his toes beneath the comforter, Bucky yawned. “It’s just morning.”

“Gross,” Clint concluded and dropped his head back onto the pillow. “Wake me up when something more exciting happens.”

Bucky let out a quiet chuckle to himself and sat up, twisting his back and frankly using the motion as an excuse to take a look at the bed to their right. Wearing the eye mask that had been gifted to all of the Islanders on their first day, Peggy was still sleeping. _On her back_ , Bucky noted, not on her side like she had been cuddling with Steve, and _dear god, how pathetic was that deduction?_ Steve was noticeably absent from the bed, which wasn’t too much of surprise, knowing that he was probably getting in his early-morning workout before the others were up and moving. He probably wasn’t preparing Bucky’s usual coffee order, and Bucky knew that he couldn’t really complain about that.

But he did need coffee.

Quite desperately.

Apparently, so did Steve. Bucky found him, shirtless and a little sweaty, staring intently at the Keurig, as if it would encourage the machine to spurt out the steaming liquid faster. “Sorry!” Steve said, shaking himself from his daze, after noticing Bucky behind him. “I’ll be out of your way in a second.”

Bucky moved beside him, selecting a mug and resting his back against the counter. “You’re fine. Take your time.”

“You can have this one if you want. I still need to grab some bread or cereal or something, and this is just black so you can doctor it up with whatever sugary grossness you like.”

“Excuse you,” Bucky said, lips automatically forming a playful smirk. He was glad to feel that the lighthearted chemistry to banter still existed, perhaps amplified by the fact that they were the only two on the deck. “Only my Love Island partners are allowed to make fun of my coffee habits.”

Steve allowed that statement to hang in the air for a moment too long before showing a smile, a bit smaller than before, like there was something preventing him from grinning fully. “Right. My apologies.”

As Steve shifted down the counter, giving Bucky room to start his coffee while he, himself, popped a bagel in the toaster, Bucky wished that he had something else to say. Where there was still the familiar repartee, there was a new layer of wariness between them, tip-toeing around the quips and questions that would have naturally risen without second-thought. _How are you and Peggy?_ , he wanted to ask, but in no way did he want to hear the answer.

Before he could come up with a different idea, Steve beat him to it. “How’d you sleep last night?"

The final drop of his coffee landed in the mug, breaking its surface in concentric circles, as Bucky replied with a white lie. “Not bad. How about you?”

Steve nodded, keeping his head down. “Yeah, me too.”

Bucky wondered if he was also lying, but in his case, doing it to be polite. Reaching for the sugar, Bucky felt another unsettling lapse, bringing what used to be naturally-flowing conversation to an unpleasant halt. It used to be so easy to fill the silence with a flirty comment or joke, even a mutual smile or brief touch.

But, again, Steve was the one to end the silence, looking down at the bagel he spread cream cheese over. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night,” he said, almost shy, and Bucky instinctively turned to face him, stirring his coffee, “but you, uh, looked really great.”

“Oh.” _Oh_ , that is not at all what Bucky was expecting, and he looked down at the foam on his mug to fight off the blush that he could already feel creeping up his neck. _This_ is what he was familiar with experiencing in their conversations, leaving him a bit breathless. “Thank you. I’m not sure I can take credit for the outfit, though, considering I was borrowing it from Riley.”

_To impress you_ , he subconsciously added, and he hoped to not sound too smug about the fact that it sounded like it maybe worked, especially telling by Steve's surprise. “Really? Huh, y’know, out of everyone here, I never would have guessed that you two would be becoming friends.”

“Tell me about it.” For Bucky, it was equally-surprising to know that he was bonding with the Southern-belle supermodel with a grab bag full of eccentric pet names, but he also knew that this new relationship was greatly impacted by Nat’s exit.

As if sharing the thought, Steve nodded in understanding. “That’s a good thing, though.”

“Definitely.”

Before another listless lull could fall over them, screams from the bedroom interrupted them. “I got a text!”

“Duty calls,” Steve said with a sigh.

Bucky waited a few moments before following him inside, not needing to spark any rumors or send Peggy the wrong message, forgetting his full mug of coffee beside Steve’s uneaten bagel. (That seemed like another one of those AP Lit metaphors, didn’t it?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little glimpses of hope, right? God bless breakfast ☕️🥐
> 
> A bit of a shorter chapter and a bit of a reset with plenty of pining (and maybe a hint that everything will be alright 😊) As always, I'd love to know your thoughts, so please feel free to tell me in the comments. 
> 
> Before anyone gets too upset at Steve, in the decorum of the show, it's not too odd for him to join the bed of his new partner, and it really doesn't say anything specific about his relationships with Bucky or Peggy. It's more so about him following the rules of the show, rather than doing something personal. Especially after he gave Bucky the opportunity to really admit how he feels (which Bucky totally flubbed!), Steve's still feeling a little heartbroken, himself, and confused. They're both idiots in their own ways, but they'll figure it out 😅
> 
> (As for Bucky's worries that Steve's immediately pulling Peggy into the cuddles and whatnot...we'll find out if that's really what's happening or simply Bucky's anxious imagination 😉)
> 
> 🎧 "Somebody Else" / "Change of Heart" - The 1975 
> 
> (This playlist would truly be amiss without something a little angsty from The 1975. Of course, "Somebody Else" has that perfect missing your ex-lover vibe which works so well with the first half of the chapter. Then, "Change of Heart" is a track that I feel so many people overlook but I love it so dearly, and even though the lyrical content definitely doesn't match the story, the major key and repeated synth motif sonically capture that hint of optimism I'm hoping to convey in the second half of this chapter. Can you tell I study music? 😂)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...it's time to find out what the PUBLIC thinks of our lovely Islanders! (For better AND for worse 😉)


	24. Chapter 24

**Episode 24**

“First text, everyone!” Scott announced proudly, sitting up against the headboard with Wanda’s head resting on his shoulder, and the others made various noises of approval. “Islanders, you’ll need thick skin to get through today’s challenge, as you’ll finally be getting a taste of what the public thinks of you. #Tabloid-Tattles #Tweet-to-Defeat”

[ _Alright, friends, this is a good one. I know I say that every time, but trust me on this, this one is sublime. Shade will be thrown, relationships will be tested, and smooches will be planted. What more could you ask for?_ ]

[ _Here’s the deal: We start off by splitting all twelve Islanders into two teams. The red team will consist of Bucky, Peggy, Riley, Scott, Thor, and Carol, and the blue team will consist of Clint, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Val, and Maria. One person from each team will take turns reading from a card that quotes a headline or tweet about one of the Islanders from the other team. To choose the person that fills in the blank, the Islander will have to secure their guess with a kiss. If their guess is correct, the Islander’s team will score a point. The team with the most points will win the game. But – and it’s a big, beautiful but – it is completely up to each Islander to decide whether to play the game to win or to kiss the Islander of their choosing. Fun, right?_ ]

[ _Can we start now? Please, please, please?_ ]

Back on the off-site deck area for the games and competitions, overlooking the picturesque, green rolling hills, Bucky was reminded of the fact that the last time they were here was when he exchanged his first kiss with Steve. Now, they were partnered with different people and on opposing teams, which, perhaps, could be intentional from the perspective of a producer who wanted to see another kiss. From Bucky’s perspective, though, the thought of kissing Steve in this challenge seemed almost wrong, like he was stoking the fire, forming some unnecessary rivalry between him and Peggy. But seeing Peggy kiss Steve? Well, that was a thought that he preferred to repress.

[ _Let’s kick things off with some nice and easy ones, shall we?_ ]

Wanda pulled the first card front the two piles that rested on a column between the two lines. “‘[Blank] deserves the world for all they’ve been through. Their daughter deserves it too.’”

Bucky looked around, between both lines, to find that he apparently needed to pay better attention, as no one else seemed surprised; he had no idea that anyone had children.

Of course, Wanda knew the answer immediately, and she stepped forward, walking right across to give Scott a kiss and earning the blue team their first point when she pulled the tape off of the card to reveal her answer as correct.

For the red team, Scott then read from the top card of their pile, “‘I feel so sorry for [Blank]. Sweetest Islander of Season 11.’” Scott arrived at a similarly-speedy conclusion after doing some quick elimination in his head. “Well, after that brutal elimination, I think we’d all agree that everyone in the world feels sorry for this guy.”

Clint shook his head, facing the ground, after Scott pressed a kiss to his cheek, a little humble, a little sad. Reminded of that night, Bucky felt the same way, but with the tape ripped off, his team still earned their first point.

[ _Now, let’s try some not-so-nice ones, eh?_ ]

Causing a rubber band of tension to tighten around his heart, Steve picked up the next blue card. He laughed to himself as he read it silently before reading it out loud, “‘Step aside, Riley Jones. [Blank] is America’s new reality TV sweetheart.’”

Making the others laugh, Riley literally stepped backward, raising his hands, palms up defensively. Bucky and Peggy, however, in their uniform red bathing suits, remained still, as they both most likely nervously wondered who Steve would pick.

Steve appeared to wonder the same thing, looking over all six of his options. Nodding, as if to reaffirm his decision, he stepped forward, and Bucky held his breath. Moving closer, but in no specific angle, Steve started to explain his choice, “I personally don’t think that there is anything sweeter than someone who devotes their time to helping children with disabilities.”

Bucky met Peggy’s gaze with a relieved smile, as she let out a sigh, and Steve stood in front of the pediatric physical therapist. At the end of their line, Carol brushed a strand of hair from her face, allowing him to kiss her cheek.

After the applause stopped, Steve stepped back into his own line and ripped off the tape. “The correct answer is…oh.” With blush dusting his chest below his neck, he turned the card around for the rest of the group to see that the name read: “Bucky.”

“Oh,” Bucky echoed.

Ducking his head to combat his own blush, he didn’t even have enough time to fully comprehend the implications of being deemed ‘America’s new reality TV sweetheart’ before Thor started the next round. “Alright, friends, this one says, ‘Glad [Blank] is happy, but if I was in her position, I would have never, ever given him up.’”

Only one person from the other team fit that criteria, and well aware that the card was referencing her own experience, Wanda even appeared to take a step forward to accept her kiss on the cheek from Thor, who revealed the obvious answer as correct and gaining the one-point lead over the blue team – 2:1.

Maria stepped forward to read a similarly negative card. “‘Sorry, [Blank]. This new couple is not the one.’ Well, out of the four of you left, only two really make sense, and as much I don’t agree with this card, I would very much like to kiss this Islander.”

The other Islanders applauded for her first kiss with Carol and were uncertain as to whether to continue the applause when Maria revealed that her guess was correct. On one hand, it was an exciting moment for the couple and earned the blue team another point, but on the other, it was still an insulting and disheartening comment to receive. Regardless, both Carol and Maria were beaming, challenging the bright sun overhead, when they returned to their spots.

Further stirring the pot, Carol picked up another comment from a pessimist. “This card says, ‘Does anyone else think that [Blank] is moving way too fast with him?’” The other Islanders exchanged some side-eyed glances, and Carol agreed. “Wow, rude, and again, pretty limiting on the possibilities. And _again_ , I completely disagree, but maybe the audience isn’t totally convinced about you and Riley yet,” she said, standing in front of Sam.

Riley rolled his eyes while she kissed his partner on the cheek but let out a deep exhale when Carol removed the tape to reveal “Val” as the correct answer, referring to her and Thor.

With the teams tied at 2-2 and most of the Islanders appearing either disappointed or anxious, the producers must have anticipated that outcome, giving Sam a positive card. Grinning, he clearly had his choice in mind before even finishing the prompt. “Oh, this comment is all about you, baby,” he said, tossing Riley a wink. “‘Can we please talk about how unfair it is that [Blank] is not only smart and successful, but also incredibly gorgeous?’”

Laughter lines appearing at the corner of his eyes as he closed them, Riley gave him a playful peck before Sam deepened the kiss, holding him by the back of the head and letting his fingers curl into blond hair. Riley continued to smile even when Sam revealed Peggy to be the correct answer.

Casually, she brushed off the compliment and pulled her card from the pile. Like Sam, she clearly had her choice in mind, eyes twinkling, maybe still under the spell of the infectious energy of the happy couple. Bucky felt his chest tighten again, as she read the card. “‘[Blank] is easily the sexiest person I have ever seen.’”

Bucky knew that it was the perfect setup for her to kiss Steve, probably the correct answer too, and he couldn’t even fault her for taking advantage of the opportunity. Knowing that still made him feel sick, stomach queasy, especially as she took a step forward. After another step, there was still a chance that she would change her mind, choose someone else, but one last step confirmed her decision.

She looked up at Steve, hopeful, a little nervous, and quite a few inches shorter than him. If he had been completely removed from the situation with no personal connections or knowledge of the two, Bucky would have viewed them as a cute couple. Even _with_ those connections and that knowledge, Bucky thought that they looked endearing together, sweet in the way that he towered over her and she had to stand on her toes to reach up, and despite how much it pained him to watch, he couldn’t look away at the sight of their lips meeting. He knew exactly what it felt like to tilt his neck up that extra inch or so to perfect the angle. He knew exactly what it felt like to have his face cradled so gently in those hands. Hell, he knew exactly what if felt like to kiss Steve Rogers on this damn deck over the hills in the hot sun in front of the other Islanders.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Bucky saw it in slow-motion, seemingly unending, infinite. If he looked hard enough, he swore that a hint of red pigment still lingered on Steve’s lips when they pulled apart.

Bucky couldn’t tell if anyone was clapping, as the buzzing and ringing in his ears drowned out any other sound, and that noise grew even louder when Peggy returned to her spot beside him. He refused to look at her, simply unable to face her, and could no longer face Steve either. Peggy revealing that her guess was wrong and _Maria_ was the correct answer did nothing to improve his mindset either.

Instead, he focused on Clint, who started the next round of the game, because _right, this was still a_ game.

“Okay,” Clint said, clearing his throat, as if in an attempt to clear the palpable tension in the air. “So, this card says, ‘Don’t trust him, girl. [Blank] is a player.’ Huh, it’s weird that I got this one, since I’m pretty sure Steve is on _my_ team.”

At first, the joke didn’t land, or maybe, they purposefully chose not to laugh or comment until someone remarked bluntly, under their breath, “Damn.” Someone else snorted, and some of the others gave nervous chuckles. Caught somewhere in the middle, Bucky wasn’t sure how to react. He appreciated Clint’s intentions of hoping to lighten the mood, while calling out Steve for that kiss, but Bucky also knew that Steve had every right to accept that kiss.

They weren’t exclusive, and now, there was a good chance that they never would be.

“Just kidding, man,” Clint clarified, nudging his arm, and Steve shrugged, seeming both bashful and a little ashamed in the way that he turned his head from the group. Carrying on with the challenge, Clint stepped into the middle space between the two lines and took another look at the card. “Between Riley and Thor, I’m thinking only one of you would really strike the folks back home as a player. Come here, Thor, you big lug."

Chest pushed forward, perfectly proud, Thor presented his cheek for Clint to kiss, finally breaking the tie for the blue team to now lead 3-2.

Bucky was then placed in the position to tie the scores again, but as he faced his two choices, he immediately knew his decision before reading the card. “‘[Blank] is just here to win the cash, and it shows.’ For the sake of this game and this game only, I hope you’re just here to win the cash, Sam.”

Before pressing a kiss to his cheek, Bucky glanced over his shoulder at Riley who nodded his approval with a bittersweet, encouraging smile. Beside him, Bucky could feel Steve’s eyes boring into him the entire time his lips were against Sam’s skin, but when Bucky stepped back, Steve looked away. Bucky did, as well, after ripping the tape from the card, reading out emotionless, “The correct answer was Steve.”

Despite them no longer being coupled together, Bucky still felt an odd sense protectiveness over Steve, offended by the notion that someone in the world thought that he joined the show just for the money. Although, it reminded of him quite a bit of a joke Steve had made in what seemed like another life. “Sounds like someone took those things you said on our first date a bit too seriously,” he said before even realizing that he was speaking out loud.

His comment was met with an array of confused faces and concerned expressions, people not privy to the punchline of the inside joke, except for one. Steve caught his eye and offered him a compromising, small grin, something personal and only for him, for _Bucky_. “Sounds like it,” Steve agreed, voice hushed to confirm the intimate moment, like a single beam of sunlight streaming between the gray clouds – a short moment of respite in the eye of the storm.

The moment was over as soon as it began, dreamlike, phasing in and out of reality.

After the original atmosphere of eager excitement had been distorted to discomfort and unease and embarrassment, the final two rounds with obvious answers served to relax and erase some of that tension, relatively pointless in that the winning team had already been decided with Bucky forfeiting the red team’s point to avoid Steve. Val shook her head with a laugh as she read the blue team’s final card. “No way is this real,” she said. “I _completely_ disagree, and so does everyone here, but I guess I have to read it anyway. ‘What’s with the hype about [Blank]? Kind of a bitch and their style isn’t even that great.’”

Riley gawked at her, mouth open and eyes wide. “Don’t even _think_ about coming near me!”

“ _I_ wasn’t the one to say that!” Val argued, crossing over to him.

“I don’t care!” As she kissed his cheek, Riley tried to shove her away, but she looped her arms around his neck with another laugh. Riley groaned when his name was, of course, written on the card. “I thought you were my friend, Val.”

“This isn’t me!” she cried out, and Riley finally dropped the defensive act, giving her another hug before they reset the lines for the final turn.

Checking out the last card before reading it to the other Islanders, Riley gasped and moved a hand to his chest. “Oh, my god,” he said to himself, and the others tilted their heads or cocked their perfectly-sculpted eyebrows. He ignored everyone else when he turned to Sam, pouting slightly and misty-eyed. As if it was the sweetest, most heartwarming thing he had ever seen, Riley read, “‘If Riley and [Blank] aren’t engaged by the end of this season, I hope the show gets cancelled.’”

Over the cheers and applause from every Islander, Riley squealed gleefully as he leapt up, trusting Sam to catch him in his arms, which he did with grace. Grinning wide and arms showing no strain, Sam appeared wholeheartedly content with holding him off the ground, as Riley pressed kisses all over his face before sealing his decision with a final kiss on the lips.

Sam reluctantly set Riley back down on the ground for him to show the camera that he was most definitely correct, and Riley squealed again. “No pressure, birdie, but I absolutely do expect you to be the one to propose to me,” he said, lighthearted like a joke, but something about his tone also conveyed a completely serious quality.

Seeming to feel no pressure whatsoever, Sam grinned again with that perfect smile and pulled Riley against his side, arm slung over his shoulders. “One day, angel.”

The Islanders clapped again, and all of them could certainly picture that day taking place.

[ _See? A happy ending after all. Unfortunately for our dear angel, though, his correct guess does not change the outcome of the game with the blue team solidifying their 4-3 victory, making Clint, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Val, and Maria the winners. What do they win, you may ask? Absolutely nothing, making you, lovely audience, the real winners here._ ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A challenging challenge to say the least. 
> 
> Obviously, this is a prime example of a production decision that is made exclusively for the purpose of starting drama. Should you be annoyed? Of course! Should you be worried? Not at all! (Much better days to come...and soon! 😉)
> 
> As always, I adore hearing your thoughts, so please feel free to share in the comments! 😊
> 
> Next up on Love Island...If you're a Riley fan, you're going to LOVE tomorrow's episode, and if you can believe it, Bucky might actually start to make sense of his feelings and realize that his feelings matter too (I know - SHOCKING!! 😂)


	25. Chapter 25

**Episode 25**

If Bucky thought that sleeping in the bed next to Steve on the first night with his new partner was uncomfortable, sleeping in the bed next to Steve on the first night that he and his new partner had the possibility to start _kissing_ was a nightmare. Nothing had happened after their first kiss during the challenge, but considering his own trajectory with Steve, Bucky assumed that Peggy was going to be a very happy lady once the room fell dark.

As soon as the lights went out, Bucky felt stinging pinpricks all over his body, skin buzzing on high alert. Every single noise that sounded in the quiet room instinctively made his muscles tighten. He clenched his fists, dug his nails into his palms, and rolled onto his side, tossing and turning and turning and tossing. Each time he closed his eyes, the only thing that he could see was that goddamn kiss.

It was still the only thing that he could see the next morning, sitting alone in his favorite deck chair beside the pool, sipping coffee as bitter as his mood.

With a sigh, Riley sat beside him and stretched out his endless legs, while he slipped off his sheer, white kimono wrap. “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said, but the tension in his shoulders said quite the opposite.

Clearly sensing how not fine that “fine” was, Riley rested a comforting hand on the arm of Bucky’s chair. Bucky looked down to admire the gold rings that adorned his fingers, how one particular purple gem reflected back shades of green in different lights. “You have to remember that it was a challenge kiss, doll,” Riley reminded him. “It meant nothing.”

“ _Our_ first kiss was a challenge kiss, and it meant something.”

“Yeah, well, you’re sure as hell not everyone,” Riley said with a smirk. “She’s actually seen the show before. She knows what it means.”

“But what if she doesn’t know?”

“What if?” Riley asked, turning the question right back around. The soft, rounded edges of his tone allowed him to play the role of compassionate devil’s advocate. “What if she really likes him, and he really likes her? What if that kiss meant everything in the world? What if he eventually chooses her over you? How would you feel about that?”

All of those possibilities felt like a slap to the face, and Bucky fell back against the chair, defeated.

He raised one foot up the seat, bending his knee to his chest and lacing his fingers over it, which he knew was a coping mechanism to make himself feel small. “I can’t be mad,” he admitted and found his voice to be just as small as he wished to compress himself. “I told them both to do this. It’s not like I have any sort of claim over him, and they have every right to explore some sort of future together, but. But, it’s just that – _fuck_.” He sighed, frustrated, and readjusted his sunglasses to block out the glare of the sun, working up the courage to put his abstract feelings into concrete words. “Is it terrible to say that maybe I still want that too?”

Bucky could see Riley physically restrain his eyes from rolling backward. “Of course not, dear. You were just getting to know the guy, and now, he’s off gallivanting with someone else who’s trying to win him over with her pretty, little accent and her red dresses and her God-given tits. They’re fabulous, obviously, but – no offense, A-cup – you can’t compete with that!”

When Riley’s hand slapped across his chest, Bucky was amazed to hear that he was actually capable of laughter, nothing substantial but still producing sound at the new self-conscious thoughts about his flat chest. “ _Rude_.”

“Listen, bra size aside, all I’m trying to say is that you have every right to be mad and jealous and get hella messy for the YouTube views if that’s your style. But I know it’s not. So, what I think you _should_ do is go talk to him about it and tell him exactly how you feel.”

“I have already, and I told him that I want him to be happy. And I mean it. I really do.”

Riley gripped his arm in a jolt of energy, blatant disbelief. “See! There it is again! The tell-tale sign that you’re not over him. ‘Oh, I just so dearly want him to be happy,’” he repeated in a mocking falsetto tone, batting his lashes and twirling a strand of hair around his finger. “That means you still like him, babe. Because if it was _over_ over, you’d say fuck him and move on, but you can’t do that. You still care about him, and you can picture yourself with him, in that happiness you keep yapping about. You deserve to be happy too, y’know.”

When he received the phone call that he would be on the show, Bucky imagined himself spending, at most, a week at the villa, pretending to care to appease Nat. Helping her live her dream while simultaneously looking for any way to escape. He never once imagined himself, alone, having a heart-to-heart with a bleach-blond model about someone he actually liked. But, now, Nat was gone, and Riley was sitting next to him, accusing him of still having feelings for a man who he had grown complacent in picturing a future together when he closed his eyes at night. That man was currently hidden in some other corner with a beautiful woman, who looked wonderful to kiss, and he was undoubtedly picturing that same future Bucky did but with _her_.

And the worst part of it all?

Riley was absolutely right. The damn, pretty, weird, hippie fashion icon was brilliant, knowing precisely what Bucky was thinking before even he did. He was empathetic, feeling the emotions that Bucky was afraid of feeling. And, in his own unique way, he was well-spoken, stringing together all of those pieces into a cohesive argument that no years of expertise and law practice could teach him how to pick apart.

He could only agree.

Letting his head fall back, as he blinked away any sort of emotion that dared to break through the exterior, Bucky sighed. “I know.”

Fondly, Riley cocked his head to the side, still remarkably patient. “Don’t deny how you feel, Bucky. It’s not fair for you. Or for him. Or her. Or _me_ , for that matter, because I’m forced to have this conversation with you right now, instead of watching you two hotties make up and make out and fall in love and get married and have gorgeous, little babies that Uncle Riley and Uncle Sammie will love to visit and spoil every chance they get.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. The scene that he had painted was certainly nice, albeit far too presumptuous and a bit too heavy on the children idea. Preventing him from expanding on that daydream any further, Bucky changed the subject. “You and Sam are going strong, then?”

Riley shrugged with one shoulder, gazing off past Bucky to where Sam sat in one of the beanbags at the opposite end of the pool, making Clint and Wanda laugh. “We’re doing alright,” Riley said, suddenly quiet.

“Is that all?”

Shaking his head, Riley turned back to him, sinking into his seat and shyly meeting Bucky’s eyes again, even with both of their sunglasses in the way. “Don’t make me say it. It’ll sound stupid to say out loud.” Bucky raised his eyebrows to encourage him to continue, and Riley groaned. “Yesterday, after the challenge, we got to talkin’ pretty seriously about that last prompt. We weren’t, like, _really_ taking it seriously, but we were sharing goals and realized that we have all of them in common. Long-term relationships and then marriage and then adopting children. We both want that, and finding that out yesterday only made me want to start making progress on that _now_.”

“That’s great,” Bucky said, and he meant it. “You should get started on that.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Not if _you_ don’t.”

“That’s the thing.” Riley smiled, pulling his hair back with his hands. “I _know_ it’s too soon to be talking like this, but forming relationships on this show is completely different than real life. That’s the thing people don’t realize, me included, before coming here. In real life, when you’re dating someone over three weeks, you go on one date, maybe two if you’re lucky, and text a little in between. But, _here_ , you go on one date and spend every single day, all day, with them and only a handful of other people. It’s like you go on one date and then the second and third and fourth. Somehow, three weeks feels like it turned into three months, y’know?”

Nodding, Bucky definitely knew; it was a phenomenon that he was still grappling with, himself. “Yeah, it’s kind of unreal.”

Riley nodded too. “Exactly, but this feeling I have for him is _so_ real. I know it. I can feel it in my heart, which I never feel this early, and it scares me. But I also know that there’s nothing to be afraid of with Sam. He’s so different than anyone I’ve ever been with before. He’s sweet, and he’s funny, and I can tell that he genuinely cares about me. He asks about my family, and he wants to know everything about my job, which he doesn’t really get, but Lord, is he trying to learn. He’s just – he’s,” Riley sighed through a laugh, fanning himself with his hand, the one with the rings. His freckled face flushed red, while he collected his thoughts. “He’s amazing. And he’s anything and everything that I could possibly want long-term, and I want him to be my boyfriend _now_. I just can’t for the life of me figure out how to tell him that.”

“Well,” Bucky began with a slight grin on his lips, “you know it’s unfair to deny your feelings.”

Riley smirked, raising a hand in a wave, when Sam called his name from across the pool, and after he stood, donning the flowy cover-up again, he squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stop denying mine if you stop denying yours.”

Bucky remained in his seat as he watched Riley throw his head back, releasing almost piercing laughter, when Sam picked him up to spin around in their signature move. Back on the ground, Riley ducked his head, nervously toying with the ends of his hair, as he appeared to ask Sam to speak with him privately. With his eyes, Bucky followed them to the other row of deck chairs on the opposite lengthwise side of the pool, so he could watch them sit together just by staring straight ahead over the shimmering water.

Riley took a deep breath, and so did Bucky.

Watching the way that Sam took Riley’s hands in his own, listening earnestly, Bucky could no longer ignore the secondhand joy of witnessing their relationship progress. If Riley could take this leap, putting his nerves and doubts aside, Bucky knew that he had no choice but to accept his own feelings for Steve.

As Riley continued to bear his heart for Sam, Steve exited the bedroom and stood at the top of the porch stairs to Bucky’s right. He squinted into the sunlight before fixing his sights directly on Bucky, giving him a bittersweet half-smile and a wave.

Bucky waved back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are they gonna talk? Do you think they're gonna talk? WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN??? 😅
> 
> We'll find out tomorrow! 😉
> 
> Today, though, I absolutely adore this episode. This conversation is so incredibly important to happen at this exact moment, and as so many of you pointed out, this is what a good friend does. Riley cares about Bucky's feelings but isn't afraid to call him out on the BS - and I think we'd all agree that it's about time! 
> 
> It's been so fun chatting with you all in the comments, hearing all your ideas and answering any questions you may have. If you've been leaving comments, thank you so much!! And if you haven't yet, give it a shot! I love hearing from all of you! 😊
> 
> If you haven't checked out my blog on tumblr yet, you can find me at buckyandthejets. I somehow managed to join, perfect timing, RIGHT before all the cevans/sebstan drama dropped and immediately got SUPER overwhelmed and had to take a break from that for myself. Still, I would love to keep interacting with the fandom through that platform, and I'll be spending the next few days trying to get back into it, because I have something HUGE to reveal to everyone and I want to show it off over there. (It's very, very exciting for me but I want to wait for a special day to reveal it, and if you've been enjoying this story, I think you'll love it 😊)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...We'll keep setting the stage for some things we've all been waiting for 😎


	26. Chapter 26

**Episode 26**

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, suddenly by his side, referring to the not-so-subtle silence that had swept over the villa, as everyone even-less-subtly stared in Riley and Sam’s direction, waiting for _it_ to happen.

Despite being in the blistering heat, Bucky shook off the chills that formed on his arms at the sound of Steve’s beautiful baritone voice so close again. Hoping to not convey that he was startled, he said nonchalantly, “Riley’s asking Sam to be his boyfriend.”

“Oh.” At the sound of a noise that he wasn’t completely sure he had heard correctly, Bucky tore his gaze away from the couple to see Steve laughing, chuckling quietly to himself. “Really?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes beneath his sunglasses. “Yeah, why?”

“ _Sam’s_ asking Riley to be his boyfriend. We talked about it this morning.”

“What?” Bucky asked after hearing him perfectly well.

That was when the cheering started. Bucky whipped his head back over to see Riley with his arms wrapped around Sam’s neck, foreheads pressed together, mouths frantic, as they kissed like they were the only two in the villa and the only two on the planet. Joining the applause, Bucky could finally breathe out a sigh of relief, weight releasing from his chest.

Or, rather, _part_ of the weight.

The other part tightened around his heart in a vice grip when he looked back over at Steve. “So, are you telling me that these two, completely on their own, chose the same day to ask each other to be exclusive?” Bucky asked, just to double-check that he had heard those details correctly (and maybe to talk to Steve again).

In a similar state of disbelief, Steve shook his head with an appreciative sigh. “Yeah, they sure did.”

“Amazing.”

With a sigh of his own, Bucky continued to watch them. They looked so incredibly happy: two single people with totally different lives, from totally different places, coming together after taking the risk to join a reality show. Outside of this, there was a good chance that they would have never met, but now, they were dating. They were _boyfriends_ , and they could be leaving the show as more than that. Just by the way that they held each other, so tight and passionate but so gentle and delicate, Bucky knew that what they had was real. It was genuine, and it was special.

Before he even realized that he was speaking out loud, Bucky said breathlessly, like a confession to someone who held his deepest trust, “They make me want to believe in true love.”

That statement hung in the air between them for what could have been hours. But as his words remained fixed in this unwavering state, as neither of them moved for this unspecified amount of time, the moment was comfortable despite being tense. The string that connected them was taut, chemistry crackling as painful as it was delightful, a magnetic pull drawing him into a space that he could have lived in forever.

Bucky wondered if Steve felt it too.

Unfortunately, the moment couldn’t last forever, and interrupting that moment, Peggy exited the bedroom and started to prepare her tea in the kitchenette, dressed in a sleek, navy-blue bikini. Steve’s eyes, of course, immediately darted over to her, as he was most likely reminded of some unspoken Love Island rule that dictated that he should have been helping her make breakfast, instead of talking to his old partner.

Before he joined her, though, Steve spared a final glance at Bucky, responding to his confession. “Yeah,” Steve said, “I know how you feel.”

Instead of enduring the heartache of watching him join her, Bucky returned his attention to Sam and Riley, who were attempting to squeeze together on a single deck chair, basking in the joy of their reciprocated feelings. Riley seemed blissfully content with dangling one leg off the chair as long as he could rest his head on Sam’s chest, giggling as Sam pressed a kiss to each one of his knuckles. They looked so–

“So fucking cute, aren’t they?”

Bucky looked up to see Clint and nodded. “Is it too early to declare the winners?”

“Technically, but I’d place a pretty confident bet on them making it to the finale,” Clint said, and Bucky kept himself from scoffing. He wondered how many of Steve’s coworkers hedged their own bets on that particular couple, because Steve certainly had not, choosing _Bucky and Nat_ out of all options, as if that would ever happen naturally. Or assuming that he could intervene and produce that preposterous possibility into existence. Obviously, he had lost that bet, and Nat had chosen the one person that no one would have guessed. Clint, himself, gestured to the chair to his left. “Mind if I sit?”

Bucky shook his head. “Not at all.”

Leaning back, Clint stretched his arms above his head, and in a pair of violet swim trunks only, he offered clear access to his colorful array of tattoos. He showed off a mix of classic and modern styles. A pair of matching, old-school bluebirds framed his collarbones, as tangled, green vines ran along them, sprouting roses outlined in black and filled in with pastel pinks. He had a few names and dates written on the inside of his bicep in a font that Bucky couldn’t read at first glance. On one wrist, an arrow pointed toward its intended target, carefully-traced concentric circles drawn on the other wrist. Perfectly in character, he had a big-top circus tent, each panel painted with a different bright color, on his ribcage, where Nat had her hummingbird. But, the one illustration that intrigued Bucky the most was below the tent on Clint’s hip: a mermaid, but with an ugly, bass-like fish’s top half shoved onto a pair of pretty, fishnet-wearing, human pinup legs.

“So, I’ve been thinking about how to best use my time here,” Clint mused, “and while I’m coupled up with you, I might as well take advantage of you.”

That statement certainly snapped Bucky out of whatever daydream he was lost in. “Excuse me?”

Clint paused, reflecting back on what he had said before it clicked, and he laughed. “Not like that! I mean, like, you know Nat better than anyone else here, obviously, and maybe better than anyone else in the world. It would be stupid of me not to pick your brain a little and figure out all the things she likes and cares about from a credible source.”

Well, it wasn’t what Bucky expected him to say, but it was actually a thoughtful idea. “Sounds like you’re quite sure about finding her when you get out of here. I’m guessing that means you’re not interested in getting to know anyone else, like she asked?”

“Nah, not at all,” Clint said, shaking his head. “She’s the only one for me, man.”

Thinking about Nat watching this conversation from home, Bucky smiled. “Good.” He turned in his chair, tucking his legs beneath him to face Clint better and coincidentally turning his back on Steve and Peggy in the kitchenette, appreciative of a distraction. “Alright, say you make it to New York and find her. Where are you taking her on a date?”

Eager, Clint leaned forward, face lighting up with ideas. “Something fun and exciting, like a concert or arcade or – _ooh_ , what about indoor skydiving?”

“She doesn’t like cliché dates, so those are all good. Make sure you have a chance to talk to her at some point, though. Conversation is huge with her. If you’re doing dinner and a movie, do the movie first, so that you can talk about the movie afterward. She took one film class in college, so she likes to think she’s a critic now. Just let her rant and agree with everything she says.”

“Oh, I live for IMDb trivia, so that’ll be a good time.”

Bucky’s smile turned into a smirk. “Yeah, you’d think that.”

In no way did Clint appear fazed. “Quiz me more. What else do I need to know?”

“Okay, so speaking of dinner, where would you take her for food?”

“Sushi, for sure. I know she’s really into eating healthy, so maybe instead of going out, we stay in? I’d love to cook for her. I cook a mean soy-ginger-glazed salmon over the grill with asparagus on the side.”

“She would really appreciate that. Don’t worry about the healthy thing too much. I’ve seen this woman down an entire pizza by herself on _multiple_ occasions. Do you know her favorite toppings?”

“All the gross ones,” Clint replied immediately.

“Correct.” Bucky laughed, recalling the first time that he learned that there were people in the world that actually ordered anchovies on pizza and _his_ _best friend_ was one of them. “She’ll never admit it, but she loves ice cream too. Find a small, local-owned shop with weird flavors, and she’ll try them all, especially ones that are almost savory or have a floral base, like rosemary or lavender. If you’re getting Ben and Jerry’s, though–”

“Chubby Hubby.”

Bucky had to admit that he was impressed. “You listen.”

“Of course. I could listen to her talk all day,” Clint said, and Bucky believed him wholeheartedly. “C’mon, this is fun. What else?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon going on like this with Bucky posing different date-night scenarios or asking Clint if he knew different facts about Nat. Clint knew most of the answers already, but Bucky gladly filled in additional details.

They talked about Nat’s work, her rehearsal schedule, the exhaustive training, and the fact that she would never be free on a Friday or Saturday night or a Sunday afternoon. Cluing Clint in on something that he had learned during their teenage years, Bucky informed him that Nat would never admit when she’s stressed or overworked, so it was always important to watch for the tell-tale signs of tension in her shoulders or extra-heavy eyelids. If Clint ever attended a performance, Bucky told him to bring a bouquet of roses, because Nat always, _always_ loved to accept flowers.

With every suggestion, it was clear that Clint was taking mental notes, and Bucky found himself a bit surprised that he was enjoying this activity so much. For him, talking about Nat was almost therapeutic, like he was connecting with her despite being separated by an entire ocean. Something he never realized he wanted, long and drawn-out conversations with the guy his best friend was almost dating, somehow turned into exactly what he needed on their lazy day off.

After Thor and Val had been ushered out of the villa to enjoy their first date, the others were left on their own, no other challenges or puzzles. Sam and Riley definitely _took advantage_ of that time, moving to one of the daybeds where they could cuddle more comfortably. Meanwhile, Wanda and Scott remained lost in their own conversations, lounging on beanbag chairs, and Carol and Maria swam laps around each other in the pool before dropping the competition and splashing each other, instead. Bucky preferred to not concern himself with whatever Steve and Peggy were doing but assumed that they were spending the time getting to know each other better ~~and hopefully with words instead of kisses~~.

It was nice to spend the day relaxing, and it was also nice to know that the man he would fall asleep next to – jokes and circus career and strange tattoos aside – genuinely cared for Nat, more than anyone else who had known her for only three weeks. That one comforting thought almost helped to balance the very uncomforting sight of Steve going to bed beside Peggy, serving as a reminder of the conversation suggested by Riley that he desperately needed to have with him.

Sighing, as he forced his eyes closed, Bucky decided that that particular conversation would have to happen the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...they kinda talked. Listen! I said it was going to happen, not that it would be easy! 😅
> 
> Over the next few days, I think you will completely understand why I'm delaying this particular conversation that we all want and why this was the perfect time to have this sweet, little conversation with Clint 😉
> 
> As always, please feel free to share your thoughts with me in the comments and a drop a kudos if you haven't yet 😊You can also find me on tumblr at buckyandthejets (another day closer to this fun reveal...!!)
> 
> 🎧"Heat of the Summer" - Young the Giant 
> 
> (I absolutely love this song for this point in the story! It perfectly conveys the apparent happiness of blissed-out, sunshiney summer vibes, while the lyrics are far darker and deeper. To me, that really reflects how Bucky and Clint are both grappling with losing Nat on the show, plus Bucky dealing with the Steve/Peggy situation, but still finding ways to make the most of it - putting on a happy face, while struggling with real emotions underneath)
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."So, when do you plan to talk to him?"


	27. Chapter 27

**Episode 27**

“So, when do you plan to talk to him?”

That was the million-dollar question, huh? The one that Bucky had asked himself as soon as his eyes opened that morning, before anyone else, before the lights turned on, and before the sun had even risen. Lying still on his back, he shifted his gaze around the others sleeping in the room from Riley to his left, tucked into Sam’s side and wearing one of _his boyfriend’s_ worn t-shirts, and Clint to his right, snoring softly into his elbow with his arm thrown over his eyes. He couldn’t tell how Steve was sleeping with Peggy, and not knowing that information was probably a good thing.

As golden rays of sunlight started streaming through the glass doors, picking up dust floating in the air, Bucky felt in some way empathetic to the small, insignificant specks. Drifting in and out of different trains of thought, he failed to find a way to ground himself. He recalled the early mornings back home when he would wake up in anticipation of the mundane routine of his work. As he waited for his coffee to brew, listening to the old-but-reliable machine percolate and breathing in the comforting scent of his favorite light roast, while standing with his back to the counter of his tiny kitchen, he reminded himself of the clients he would be meeting that particular day and what projects he needed to finish, excited to get lost in the fine print.

Now, he only found himself lost in a pair of gemstone eyes.

He slipped out of the room, got in a short workout, grabbed breakfast, showered, and got dressed – all before the lights in the bedroom turned on. No matter where he went, he still couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty, nerves tight in his stomach, mind haunted by those damn blue eyes, as if mocking the fact that he didn’t know what to say. The fact that he was _scared_ to even say whatever that would turn out to be. He needed stability and reassurance, and he needed to vent to an impartial ear, giving him a way to tether down the anxiety, grounding the specks of floating dust.

Which led him to hopefully find the same solace that he did in the first few days on the show, sitting in front of a camera, in a small hut, with a producer wearing all black.

America looked barely awake, scrubbing her eyes when he walked in, but she encouraged him to take his seat and spill his guts. Which he did. He started with the recoupling and how defeated he felt to see Steve at the side of a stranger, how he felt that he was slipping between his fingers, and how watching each one of his interactions with Peggy felt physically painful. Briefly interacting with Steve the day before had been exciting – _exhilarating,_ really – but they never had a chance to talk, to _really_ talk, so Bucky could explain himself and his feelings. He admitted that he still very much had feelings for him, as prompted by a southern supermodel, but the idea of telling that to Steve was frankly terrifying but absolutely necessary.

Which led to America asking the million-dollar question.

“Today,” Bucky eventually decided, rubbing the back of his neck. “Definitely today.”

“Probably a good idea,” she said quietly, more to herself with her eyes to the side, like she was saying too much.

Taking the hint to expect an incoming shakeup, Bucky appreciated the honesty. “Got it. What do you think I should say?”

She successfully restrained the twitch in her pierced eyebrow from taking the form of a scoff or eye roll, maintaining her patience. “The truth. Maybe start with everything you just told me.”

_Of course._ “How do you think he’ll react?”

“You’ll find out,” she said bluntly. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? If he says no, he doesn’t feel the same way, that sucks, but it’s better than keeping that bottled up and spending the rest of your life wondering what _could_ have happened. _Or_ , he says yes, he feels the same way, and that’s fucking awesome. This can be the start of something huge. You just have to take the leap.”

Stepping into the warm, bright sun, Bucky felt ready to take that leap, steadying himself with a deep breath, like he did at the yoga classes that Nat loved and he hated, but nevertheless, he was _ready_. His conversation with America had been a decent run-through, a dress rehearsal, and one that he would cringe while watching in the future, as he stumbled through confessions that belonged in a diary. But, _no_ , he was ready to do this, goddammit.

He just had to wait for other people to wake up.

As soon as they did, watching his fellow Islanders trickle out of the bedroom, Bucky felt the nerves return. Especially when Steve came out shirtless in those blue short-shorts that in different circumstances would leave Bucky feeling breathless for other reasons. Steve headed straight to the gym, focusing intently on a much more strenuous workout than Bucky attempted with far heavier weights, and Bucky couldn’t bring himself to interrupt him. Instead, Bucky distracted himself by joining Riley, Sam, and Clint at the picnic table in the kitchenette, keeping his back to the pool to avoid sneaking glances at Steve’s sweaty, glistening body.

Bucky waited for him to finish his workout and shower and change into his swim trunks of the day: mint green with cute, little slices of watermelon scattered around them. They were the perfect complement to Peggy’s salmon-pink, one-piece suit with diamonds cut out of the side to reveal her pretty skin, pressed against Steve’s bare side when they stood next to each other, chatting with Thor and Val about their date. Eavesdropping on the details of a candlelit dinner overlooking a seaside cliff at sunset, Bucky listened for an opportunity to swoop in and steal Steve away, an awkward transition or slow lull.

No such transition ever came. 

Their groups soon meshed with everyone else, sitting around the unlit fire pit and creating their own game with a round of alcohol-free Never Have I Ever, transporting them all back to middle school or summer camp or both. They divulged stories of first kisses and sexual exploits, party fouls and mistakes that now made funny anecdotes. Steve repeated the story of his arrest for the newcomers, moving his hands animatedly and fluctuating the cadence of his voice with natural-but-unexpected rises and falls. He was such a captivating storyteller that Bucky dreamed of keeping him in his life for every family holiday, entertaining his Ma and Becca at their Thanksgiving dinner.

Almost startled, Bucky shook his head at that thought.

Obviously, Bucky couldn’t interrupt him then, either, or usher him to a corner without gaining the blatant attention of the others. He played the game on autopilot, folding down fingers and giving a few less-exciting explanations, as the pressure mounted in his chest as a reminder that he needed to speak with Steve and _soon_.

Before he could, the universe – or, rather, Steve’s friends, the _producers_ – had other plans.

A mechanical chime sounded from Bucky’s phone, mocking him. The others whipped their heads in his direction, and he read the text. “Islanders, it’s time to start getting ready for tonight’s main event: The 2020 Love Island Prom,” he finished with bland delivery, but most of the others still screamed, ecstatic shrieks drowning out the hashtags: “#You’re-All-Kings-and-Queens #Last-Dance.”

As if he had announced a monumental historic event, they immediately rose from their seats, jumping up and down or hugging each other with unapologetic peels of joyful laughter. Bucky darted his eyes around for an explanation, but no one offered one.

Another text, however, sent to Sam, changed the tone. “Hey, everyone!” he shouted to get their attention and read out loud, “‘Don’t get too excited. Enjoy it while it lasts, because first thing tomorrow morning, I will be visiting to lead a recoupling ceremony. Carol, Wanda, Sam, Val, Clint, and Steve will be choosing from the remaining Islanders, and one Islander will be eliminated from the villa. XOXO – Janet.’”

The news only slightly dampened the overall dynamic, as the others scattered, racing around, buzzing and babbling, while Bucky sat still in the middle of the chaos, confused. “C’mon, let’s get ready,” Riley said, reaching for his hand and pulling him out of his seat.

Bucky followed without much choice. “What’s happening?”

“ _Prom_. Like straight-up, senior-year, lose-your-virginity-but-this-time-kinkier-because-you’re-thirty _prom_. Formal wear with corsages, pictures in front of an arch made of balloons, and dancing that turns into dry-humping to outdated pop. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this,” Riley explained fondly and led him to the bedroom.

Over his shoulder, Bucky gave one final, regretful glance to Steve, finding him being pulled away by Sam and Thor, before stepping inside.

Reaching their dressing room, Riley pulled him over to his closet first. “I’ve been waiting to wear this all season. It’s a little ballsy and not my usual type of outfit, which kinda scares me, but I think it’s time.”

Bucky only had a couple of moments to ponder what piece of clothing could possibly scare Riley before he pulled from the rack a – _oh_ , a dress. And a pretty dress, at that. Simple in form with thin straps on the shoulders, a deep V down the chest, and the rest of the fabric dropping to the floor, which would hang loosely around him but also conform to his slim figure. It was all white and all lace in a patchwork of various appliques that combined to create a cohesive pattern.

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky said with a genuine smile.

“You really think so? I was afraid it would read a little bridal.”

Bucky shrugged. “Out of all the couples here, you’re technically the closest to walking down the aisle.”

Chuckling, Riley appeared more accepting of his own outfit but still a bit hesitant. “And you don’t think it’s weird for me to, y’know, be a guy wearin’ a dress?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course not. Wear whatever the hell you want. Life’s too short to worry about whether or not your clothes match meaningless social norms. If wearing a dress makes you happy, then wear a fucking dress.”

Riley stared down at the dress, expression difficult to decipher, before shaking his head with a sigh. “You’re really amazing, and I hope you know that.”

“Please,” Bucky said, brushing off the heartfelt compliment. “I wish I had half the confidence you do to express yourself so openly.”

“You tellin’ me you’ve never worn a dress before?” Riley asked, as disappointed as he was surprised.

“Never.”

“Shame I didn’t think to pack another one,” Riley only half-teased, as Bucky moved to his own closet. “Ever worn heels?”

Bucky laughed at the mental image. “God, no. I’d probably twist an ankle.”

“What about makeup?”

“Nope.”

“C’mon, not even on Halloween?”

_Oh_ , well, if that was the case, Bucky had actually been forced into a few more (platonic) couples’ costumes with Nat than he preferred to remember in which makeup had played a role, including being the Gomez to her Morticia Addams with black eyeliner smeared under his eyes. “Fine, then, yes.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “Are there pictures?”

Bucky sighed, reluctant to admit that, “Yes, there are pictures.”

“Wonderful. I’d say I’d love to see them after the show, but who knows, we still have plenty of time for me to see it recreated in person,” Riley said, beaming over at him, as he started to get undressed.

Bucky wished that he could have continued the joke but couldn’t help being reminded of the message from the second text. “Only if I make it through the elimination tomorrow.”

Sensing Bucky’s concern, Riley dropped the smirk for something warmer. “You got nothing to worry about. I know for a _fact_ that he is choosing you, and we can guarantee that with the outfit you’re wearing tonight. I have a few things that I think would be perfect–”

“Actually,” Bucky said, feeling rude to interrupt but needing to before he got too far ahead of himself, “I have something in mind.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

“Well, you were right about having something. You look absolutely stunning.”

As was becoming tradition between them, Bucky and Riley stood side-by-side in front of their mirrors in the dressing room, admiring each other’s outfits. “Thanks, Riley. You look as beautiful as you always do.”

Turning his head to different angles, Riley laughed, nudging Bucky’s arm. “We look like the little angel and devil that hover over your shoulder when you have to make a moral decision.”

Bucky grinned at their reflections, certainly capable of seeing that image. In the all-white dress, soft lace, with his white-gold hair braided and pinned back to create a halo, Riley only lacked the wings to fit the angel role. The thin silver chain, holding a modest diamond in the center of his chest, matched the glitter on his cheeks, simply radiant in the vanity lights.

That left Bucky as the devil, and he willingly accepted the comparison. While Riley wore white, Bucky wore black: slacks and a dress shirt, plain but effective in their immaculate cut, precisely-tailored lines that fit sinfully along the curves of his legs. But the true selling point of the outfit was the jacket. Far bolder than he typically enjoyed, it was one that he wore only once a year, as Nat insisted for the one _Nutcracker_ performance that he attended in complimentary seating, rivalling the star character himself and the poinsettias that decorated the theater, made of crushed red velvet.

“This color on you is unbelievable,” Riley cooed, running his hand along the soft fabric.

“I love it because it matches the soles of my shoes,” Bucky whispered and clued him in on the secret that he admitted to no one by lifting one of his patent-leather oxfords to show off the bright red bottoms.

Gasping, Riley, of course, knew the implications of their designer and the subsequent implications of the price of that designer, smacking him on the arm to confirm that fact. “Oh, I _knew_ you were a luxury whore!"

“Not all the time,” Bucky said, knowing that this was only the second time he had worn the pair. The first consisted of hesitantly tiptoeing around his apartment for about ten minutes in sheer awe and mild regret that he had spent close to a grand on a pair of shoes that would remain in his closet until being taken out on a reality dating show for their _prom_. (He justified the decision by keeping clear, plastic shields on the soles to protect them from getting scuffed.) “Occasionally, I can be a bit whorish.”

Riley squealed and turned back to the mirror; this time, he was the one with the devilish smirk. “Good, because that’s the spirit for tonight. Let’s go get your man back, gumdrop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I know...I’m reallyyy teasing this out, but trust me, it will be worth it tomorrow when all your wildest dreams come true. Or, start to come true. Kind of. Trust me on this one, it’ll be more than worth it. 😉
> 
> In the meantime, as we wait for tomorrow's AMAZING episode (if I may say so myself and I will), let's all get hyped for the prom! Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments! And you can find me on tumblr at buckyandthejets 😄
> 
> 🎧 "Dancing Shoes" - Arctic Monkeys & "Send My Love to the Dance Floor" - Cobra Starship 
> 
> (Because I'm SO excited to finally share the prom chapters with you, I think that's completely worth two awesome songs to get into the dancing mood. We all know and love the Arctic Monkeys; they need no introduction, but how perfect is this song for matching Bucky Barnes wearing Louboutin's?? If you've never heard of Cobra Starship, I am beyond thrilled to introduce them to you! They are quintessential "neon"-era pop punk and were incredibly close friends with Fall Out Boy and My Chem and Panic circa like 2008 (aka the era of music that defines my life 😅) Hopefully, these songs help get you even more excited for the prom!)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...THE PROM! An extra long chapter full of gorgeous fashion, music, dancing, and something we've all been waiting for... 😉


	28. Chapter 28

**Episode 28**

“Alright, so here’s how this is going to work: we don’t trust you enough to not stab yourselves with the boutonnières, so you’re all getting corsages to wrap around your wrists. They’re all pink, so sorry if that clashes with your lovely outfit. One by one, we’ll send someone from your half to meet your partner under the archway for pictures. This is your big moment, the first time you’re seeing each other all dressed up, so make it count. Huge smiles, hugs and kisses, pretend it’s your wedding for all we care. When you’re all out there, we’ll bring in the special, secret guest DJ, who none of you will know, but pretend like he’s your favorite actor, singer, whatever to make him and the audience feel like you’re in the presence of a real celebrity. After that, dance and drink the night away at your leisure. Party until the sun rises. Except, in reality, the party’s over at midnight, because we need to reset this shit for tomorrow morning and you all need your beauty sleep. Got it?”

No one in Bucky’s group objected, and the producer – _Dum Dum, maybe?_ – spoke into his walkie-talkie before turning back to the six. “Excellent. Have fun. Don’t puke in the hot tub.”

After slipping the pink ribbon and baby rose onto his wrist, Bucky was the first to walk down the ivy-lined walkway, and he met Clint under an archway of interspersed black and silver balloons that had been set up at the top of the stairs, leading down to the main pool area. “Dude, you look _awesome_ ,” Clint said, making Bucky crack a grin.

“Thanks, man.” Bucky pulled back from their casual embrace to take a look at Clint’s outfit and – _well_ , it was something. He wore a sleek, well-fitting suit but in a slightly-outdated style and in a shocking, vibrant purple color with a bright green bowtie. Bucky simply spoke his mind. “You look like The Joker meets Mr. Monopoly.”

Clint laughed, rather than appear in any way offended. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They posed for the cameraman, enduring the white flashes and showing off various smiles, as Bucky hoped that his didn’t look too pained. The producer told them to try other poses, so Clint put a peace-sign behind Bucky’s head, matching his own outfit with equally-outdated bunny ears. They tried the back-to-back _Charlie’s Angels_ (minus one) pose, holding up finger-guns, and skipping forward a couple of decades, they gave duck/fish lips a try.

Apparently, those poses were decent enough, and the producer instructed them to wait on the pool deck to watch the other Islanders. As he descended the wooden stairs, covered in a red carpet that mirrored his jacket, Bucky realized why they had received the text to get ready hours before they were released from their sequestering in the mansion.

The deck had been completely transformed. Bucky’s favorite loner chairs were removed, and a cover had been thrown over the pool to create an expansive dance floor. Speakers and massive turntables were off to the side for the not-so-celebrity DJ, playing ambient electronica that alternated between only four chords with a meandering melody. Metallic streamers hung twisted across the few decorative pillars that outlined the perimeter of the deck, giving the illusion of a ceiling above them. Further creating a totally different atmosphere, various lights cast the dance floor in an array of colors, blue and purple and red and green, and fog machines were smoking to mask any remaining identity of the typical deck.

It was a pretty remarkable magic trick.

With cheers and applause, Bucky and Clint welcomed the other couples. Scott’s gray suit complemented Wanda’s teal, strapless gown perfectly, and they greeted each other with a sweet kiss. Next, Carol and Maria laughed at the fact that they had both chosen sharp, monochromatic suits with Carol in all-white and Maria in all-black. Thor and Val’s smiles were all genuine when they posed for the camera, looking like the definition of a power couple with Thor in a sandy-tan suit, leaving the top buttons of his crisp, white dress shirt undone, and the top of Val’s dress sparkled with gold glitter and spread out at the hips into layers upon layers of feathers.

All eight of them shouted and clapped when Riley came around the bend, proudly strutting in his dress and causing Sam’s jaw to drop before breaking into a wide grin. In true Sailey?/Ram? fashion, Sam swept Riley off of his heels, holding him up for the pictures. With Riley’s white dress and Sam’s classic black suit, they certainly could have been standing at the altar, and that was certainly fine.

In anticipation of the final couple, Bucky held his breath involuntarily at the sight of Steve in his suit. It was the navy-blue color that Steve clearly knew looked heavenly on him, and it was tailored perfectly to his proportions, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim waist. Pulled across his chest, his white shirt was tantalizingly-tight. Bucky wanted nothing more than to feel the firm muscle beneath it, to walk down that stone pathway again and greet him with a kiss, but taking that role, minus the kiss, was Peggy, who dashed Bucky’s dreams as soon as she walked out. Bucky only knew that she was there by watching Steve’s eyes widen, lips parting in a pleasantly-surprised smile. He turned to Peggy, and Peggy looked – _fuck_ ,

Peggy looked unbelievable.

Just like Steve, she knew exactly how to boast her body. The deep V-cut of her neckline put her unbeatable cleavage on display, and a long slit showed off her right leg. The color – _god_ , the color – was a rich, satin red, shifting darker but also shining when she moved. It brought out the natural color of her full cheeks and the accentuated shade of her lipstick, deeper than the typical ruby, more of a wine. Her lashes were dark and thick when she looked up at him, and full-bodied curls and waves framed her face, another reminder of what she offered Steve and what Steve must have loved about her. The long, dark hair that he probably buried his fingers in, the plush lips that he kissed, and the legs – _legs,_ Steve’s “weakness” – that probably fit around his waist divinely…

Before he even realized it, Steve and Peggy were beside him, standing with the rest of them, as they welcomed the DJ, who turned out to be a middle-aged man, wearing chrome aviators at night, headphones around his neck, and a leather jacket. He wasted no time before starting the music, and the other Islanders wasted no time before invading the dance floor.

Drawn in by peer pressure, Bucky put aside his jealousy and joined the group, alongside Clint, forcing himself to pretend that he was the man who he wanted to hold his hands when they danced. Thankfully, the DJ started with the upbeat songs, quick tempi that raised their heartbeats and got their blood rushing, feeling the bass vibrating in their veins. They allowed the group to mix together, losing their partners, moving with whoever. He danced with Riley, twirling each other until they were both dizzy, and he danced with Wanda, shimmying together, neither knowing what they were doing.

By the third or fourth song, Bucky found himself dancing with Thor, laughing but continuing to sway his hips, moving his shoulders however felt natural. Bucky thought nothing of the action when a strong hand slipped down to his hips and spun him around, and he allowed his back to fall against a sturdy chest, having danced like this plenty of times with Nat and other friends at countless parties and clubs. With hot breath on his neck and a warm body pressed against his back, surrounded on every side by other warm bodies, sweat started to bead on his forehead, spreading across his chest. He embraced it, melted into it, and perhaps, let his mind wander, imagining being supported by a different blond, built man. _Perhaps_. But it was exactly the mental image he needed when Thor started to grind against him to encourage him to grind back.

It was only fair, and it was only for fun, right?

Bucky allowed Thor to set the pace and followed it easily. Sighing, Bucky closed his eyes and leaned against him when he started to feel the soft scratch of Thor’s beard against the back of his neck. Thor left one hand at Bucky’s waist, holding his hips steady while he rubbed against him to the sinful beat of the song, and his other hand crept along the jacket, as if admiring the velvet material before dipping inside, palming Bucky’s chest through his dress shirt. Overwhelmed but somewhat comforted by the touch, Bucky lifted his own hand to rest on top of Thor’s, so that they could both feel his pounding heart.

Thor was the first move.

When he brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw, gently turning his head to look up and over his shoulder, Bucky opened his eyes on instinct and found himself staring at his favorite shade of irises. But then his gaze dropped lower to Thor’s mouth, a corner quirked upward in a questioning grin. Even after one date, Bucky knew that he wasn’t exclusive with Val, so there would have been nothing wrong with leaning in for a kiss. It would have been an awkward twist, straining his neck, but with Thor cradling his jaw in his palm, he made it seem so _easy_.

But Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He didn’t know where Steve was on the jumble of the dance floor, but he did know how it felt to watch Peggy kiss him during the challenge. Recalling late nights spent tossing and turning, he couldn’t hurt Steve like that. He couldn’t pretend like this was what he wanted when he finally knew exactly what he wanted. When Steve didn’t know yet.

With a weak, apologetic smile, Bucky stepped away, putting space between them, but Thor didn’t seem to mind at all. When the song ended, abruptly switching to something slower and softer, Bucky gracefully bowed out for Val to dance with her partner, and he found _his_ partner on the outskirts of the circle. “May I have this dance, sir?” Clint asked, offering his hand.

Bucky accepted it in honor of Nat. “Of course.”

They raised their loosely-clasped hands up and off to the side, and Bucky rested his other hand on Clint’s shoulder. “Not gonna lie,” Clint said, lowering his voice to a whisper, as if admitting a secret, “I’ll have to ask you to lead. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

Chuckling, Bucky dropped his head. “Yeah, not sure I can help much. I typically let the professional dancer lead.”

“Well, shit. Guess we can just copy what everyone else is doing then.”

They swayed back and forth, stepping left and right, hardly moving their feet, as they watched the others. All the other Islanders embraced the romantic lyrics of the song, holding their partners close, fingers interlaced with some resting their foreheads together or exchanging gentle kisses. The atmosphere between them carried a different sense of warmth, something more intimate and earnest.

Naturally, his eyes drifted over to Steve and Peggy. There was more space between them than most of the others, but they were still close, breathing in each other’s air and moving in a well-rehearsed pattern, knowing precisely when to turn. With Peggy’s dress gliding across the floor when she twirled and Steve following her every move with a guiding hand at the small of her back, they looked like a picture-perfect couple. Together, in their complementing red and blue, they looked like they could be at an exclusive gala, accepting awards from the president or the fucking Queen. They gazed into each other’s eyes, and as the song was coming to an end, Bucky could swear he saw the way that their gazes shifted lower to each other’s lips.

Bucky could no longer watch, realizing that he had stopped moving already, and Clint had, as well, following his line of sight with a frown. While Bucky turned to head toward the seating at the sides, Clint moved closer to the group. “Yo, guys, who wants to see me do The Worm?”

Turning back around, Bucky watched with shocked amusement when Clint pushed right between Steve and Peggy, forcing them apart and dropping onto the floor on his stomach. The others laughed and applauded his valiant effort, as he more accurately convulsed on the ground rather than dancing, demonstrating that this was clearly something he did not practice regularly.

Bucky didn’t know how to thank him, but he gave him a small, appreciative smile when he stood up, brushing off his purple suit.

Clint’s interruption actually transitioned well into the next set of energetic songs, and Bucky rejoined the group. This time, however, he felt distant from the others even in close proximity. His thoughts drifted, and he couldn’t focus on reminding himself to keep moving. He thought of how this was supposed to be the day when he talked to Steve, the night when he ‘won’ him back, but Steve hadn’t even spared him a glance, entirely captivated by Peggy – and rightfully so. She was beautiful and smart and kindhearted and everything that he could ever want or need.

She deserved him; she had won the game.

At the start of the next slow song, Bucky excused himself from the dance floor, wanting to get as far away from the slow-dancing as possible. He couldn’t stomach the sight of Steve and Peggy together any longer and knew that Clint didn’t have another distraction up his sleeve.

Clint joined him on the bench, the seating that ran all around the outside of the deck, and Bucky greeted him with a tight half-smile. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?” Clint teased, acting bashful, as he batted his eyelashes but quickly dropped the routine with a sigh. “Nah, man, it was the least I could do. Wasn’t fair, forcing you to watch them like that.”

Bucky shrugged, movement restricted slightly by his jacket. “It’s fine. Not like there’s much we can do about it anyway.”

The other couples continued to dance to the acoustic ballad, oblivious to everyone else, as their focus remained fixed on their individual partners. “If it makes you feel any better,” Clint began, noticing the particular couple who had captured Bucky’s attention, yet again, “you’re not going home tomorrow.”

Chest tightening in excitement or maybe anxiety, Bucky’s head snapped to the left. Was Clint really suggesting that Steve was planning on picking him? How would Clint know that? More generally, “What?”

Clint nodded, keeping his eyes low when he laced his fingers together over the knee that he rose to his seat. “I’m eliminating myself tomorrow.”

“What?” Bucky asked, finding his clarification to be more confusing than helpful. “How?”

“It’s my time to go. I already told a producer, and they’re fine with it. As long as it’s not a public vote, you can leave whenever you want.”

_Well_ , that was news to Bucky. Something that had been omitted from the contract, something that had been omitted by a specific producer on the first day. And, obviously, that was a deliberate choice, but Bucky could respect it. Steve had his own agenda and intentions and every right to pursue telling the narrative that he wished to create. This was his _job_ , and he at least had the decency to admit that he was wrong in the beginning. Bucky wanted to respect Steve’s decision to keep that secret, but it didn’t explain why Steve would keep that information from him when he was sobbing, broken and utterly distraught, after Nat’s elimination.

_What was Steve’s plan then? Is that what he wanted?_

Resting a hand on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze, Clint interrupted that inbound train wreck of a train of thought. “Even if Steve doesn’t choose you, I want you to stay – pinky-promise me, okay? Get to know someone else. Maybe Thor? I saw how hot and heavy you two were getting.”

Bucky froze, unaware that _anyone_ had seen. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Steve didn’t choose him. If that were the outcome, then obviously he had no other choice but to get to know someone else. But as for staying on the show, he didn’t want to make any other promises. Regardless, he nodded for Clint – an extension of his promise with Nat. “Okay.”

“I also wanted to say thank you, by the way. You helped make this week actually enjoyable for me.”

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. “Please, I was a terrible partner. All I did this week was mope around and be miserable by myself.”

“Yeah, exactly, and that gave _me_ time to mope around and be miserable by _my_ self,” Clint said with an easygoing laugh. “I’d say we turned out to be a pretty good couple. Barnes and Barton, Barton and Barnes.” He let their names hang in the air, pondering them with a fond, warm and fuzzy grin. “That sounds very professional. Like, _Barton and Barnes: Attorneys at Law_.”

The continuous stream of champagne must have been accumulating, because Bucky found himself releasing a genuine laugh. “Wow, thank you for describing my worst nightmare. You make us sound like ambulance-chasers who have shitty, low-budget commercials and an annoying jingle that play every ten minutes on basic cable.”

Clint played along. “Alright, alright. What about a couple grizzly, retired cops, fed up with injustices of the system, so they turn to a life of private investigation, instead?” Before Bucky could react, Clint dropped his voice past the low end of his range, adding a bit of husky gravel. “ _Barton and Barnes: Down with the Fuzz_.”

“Dear god,” Bucky groaned, holding his sides while he laughed.

“C’mon, this is fun. Give it a shot,” Clint said with another encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Just tipsy enough to agree, Bucky nodded. “Okay, so Barton and Barnes, Barnes and Barton…” Bucky mused, repeating his options and pondering some clever comment. “Barton and Barnes, so B and B.” Bucky gasped as he felt the epiphany. “The B and B B&B _:_ _Barton and Barnes’ Bed and Breakfast_.”

“Oh, yes.” Clint showed his emphatic approval with yet another shoulder-pat. “All the beds are topped with ugly quilts and those frilly accent pillows.”

“Sure, and we only serve food that starts with the letter B.”

Clint stared at him in awe, like he was a genius who solved an unsolvable theorem. “Love that, so like, burgers and bacon and blueberries–”

“Bagels?” Bucky offered.

“ _Yes_. What else?”

“Bananas.”

“Oh, obviously. Brussel sprouts?”

“That works. How about–”

“Hey.”

With all of the joking and laughing and bed and breakfast menu-planning, neither of them had heard the music change back to the fast-paced, bass-heavy club hits.

Neither of them had heard Steve approach, either.

Standing an arms-length away, Steve shifted his weight to his other leg, hands shoved into his pockets, uncharacteristically nervous. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as he cleared his throat. “Can I speak with Bucky please?”

That was an instantly-sobering question, and Bucky turned to Clint, closing his mouth as soon as he realized it was still gaping open. “As long as he’s okay with that,” Clint said, tone serious, almost darker.

This was it.

This was the moment he’d been waiting for, waiting to talk to Steve. This was when he’d finally sit down with him and have that _fucking_ conversation. It wasn’t a choice anymore; this was something he _had_ to do, no matter how painful or shameful. He thought of how much it hurt to see Steve with Peggy, all of the regret that flooded his brain whenever he saw them together. He thought of the fleeting moments of hope that sprung in the deep pits of despair that clouded his heart any time that they interacted since then, like how his heart fluttered in the kitchenette, making breakfast side-by-side, or how it stopped completely when he approached him after Sam and Riley made their relationship official. He thought of the realization that he wanted that too, _so much_ , and he was willing to fight for it, make himself look like a fool on national TV for it, and it would still be worth it. He was ready for it.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Skeptical, or maybe more concerned, Clint stood and continued to face Bucky, pointing at him, as he backed away. “Alright, but if you need anything, you call for me.” He gave Steve a less-than-gentle shove as he pushed past him, and he dropped his voice to a level that could have been a threat from anyone else. “Don’t fuck this up, blondie.”

Even after Clint had rejoined the dance floor, Steve remained in his place, standing still. He appeared to collect his thoughts before stepping closer and pointing at the spot Clint had been sitting. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Steve sighed when he sat down at an angle to face him. The air felt uncomfortably tense, hot and stuffy, stress acting as humidity. With a cool huff of a laugh, Steve seemingly hoped to lighten that pressure. “Looks like you’re having about as good of a time as I am,” he said dryly.

Bucky’s eyebrow raised itself. “Looked like you were having a pretty good time to me.”

“God, no. I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.” Steve shook his head, and Bucky allowed him to elaborate. “I never thought I’d be forced to make this type of decision. It’s agony, and before tomorrow, I felt that I needed to talk to you.”

Bucky felt his heart ache at the torment in Steve’s voice, prepared to say anything to make it go away but only capable of saying in the moment, “Okay.”

“I felt that I needed to talk to you about this week and where that leaves us. Getting to know Peggy has been nice, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been a little distracted, unable to focus and think straight. You’re still very much on my mind, and I think about that if there’s still a chance–” Steve’s eyes widened, as if realizing what he was saying as the words left his mouth, and he cut himself off with a sharp inhale, holding his breath.

In the same instant, Bucky’s heart swelled and deflated, filling with hope before cracking and letting that hope spill out. “Yes?” he asked, a breathless whisper, wondering if Steve could even hear him.

Steve shook his head again, keeping his eyes vacant, off to the side. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I wanted to talk to you to know _your_ thoughts about everything. So, if you don’t mind telling me, where’s your head at right now?”

_Where was his head at?_

Bucky kept himself from laughing. His mind was a swirling tornado of uncertainty. He was lost and confused and maybe a little scared. He had been enjoying himself, finally feeling that this was a vacation and accepting his high school-esque crush, and all of that had been thrown aside when Nat left. Without her guidance, he fell apart, self-destructing and ruining everything between him and the one other person who cared about him.

Now, he was paying for that. He watched that person fall for someone else, someone who seemed flawless and welcomed him in with open arms. He wavered back and forth between sadness and jealousy and regret and _loss_ , mourning what could have been. What should have been. He was isolating himself, sitting alone and comparing himself to _dust_.

That was where his head was at: jumbled, disorganized, disastrous.

Bucky raised his head, meeting the beautiful blue eyes that he had been dreaming of all week, and told the truth. “Steve, I’m a fucking mess. For days now, I’ve been envisioning this moment as my final chance to sell myself and convince you to pick me, but all I can think of is how terrible of a choice that would be for you if you’re looking for a long-term relationship. I’m pretty sure my longest relationship lasted seven months, and I am most definitely the cause of that breakup. I’m a workaholic, and I spend more time at my office than in my own home. I order takeout way more often than I should and blame it on work. I use work as an excuse for not having a social life outside of my childhood best friend, pretending I’m really busy so that I don’t have to go out and meet people. I’m picky about almost everything, I’m stubborn as hell, and I will _never_ admit when I’m wrong. I’m not even sure I’m fun to be around.”

Certain that he was rambling on toward a point, Bucky continued without waiting for Steve’s response. “And I’m not apologizing for any of that. That’s who I am, and I can’t change that. But, something about being here, in this environment where I can’t be any farther from my work and I can’t use it as an excuse, where finding _love_ is the main goal, it makes me wish that I could change. Something about you, specifically, makes me want to change. I’ve enjoyed every single second that we spent together, and I will regret it for the rest of my life if I was the one to put an end to that. I know that I won’t be the perfect boyfriend and I can’t promise you that I’ll be different, but I do promise you that I will try my best to be better _for_ you. You deserve the best, probably better than I can ever offer, so if the person that can give you that isn’t me, then that’s okay.”

At some point, Bucky reached between them and held Steve’s hands without asking, without even thinking, searching him out for comfort as he spoke from his heart. “I want you to pick me, because I’m selfish. What you really should do is choose who is the absolute best for _you_. Think about who you could have a serious future with, who could care for you the way you deserve to be cared for, and go from there.”

Bucky realized that his chest was heaving when he finished, heart pounding against sternum, and he had tears welling in the corners of his eyes, lip quivering as he fought to keep them from falling. Steve, on the other hand, remained motionless. His eyes had fallen from their confident position of staying locked on Bucky’s, and the gray in them, combined with his furrowed brow, made them appear sorrowful, apologetic. Maybe absentmindedly, maybe intentionally, Steve moved his thumbs in soothing circles on the backs of Bucky’s hands.

Then, he smiled.

It was just the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, but it was there and it was a good sign. His lips parted, and quietly, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t save you a dance.”

To his right, Bucky saw that the party was over. The DJ was gone, and the other Islanders must have gone inside, as the producers and crew worked to disassemble the dance floor. Two of them were carrying the heavy speakers on a handcart with someone else spotting them. A producer on a ladder took down the streamers, while another took down the lights. Behind them, America was ripping apart the balloon arch, and another college-aged kid stepped on them to pop them. Bucky hadn’t heard a single pop. He hadn’t even heard the music stop or one of the head producers shouting out orders, as if their conversation had completely blocked out the rest of the world. Just as they had when they were together, lying on a daybed, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Bucky missed those conversations so dearly.

“It’s okay,” Bucky said, remembering that Steve was waiting for a response.

Steve nodded, after watching his old coworkers run around the deck, perhaps recalling helping them over the past years, he turned back to Bucky and sighed, letting all of the tension go that puffed out his chest, collapsing in on himself. “Can I hug you?”

Without a single thought, Bucky leaned forward and threw his arms around Steve’s neck. He pulled him as close as possible, tucking his chin on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve did the same. Releasing his own relieved sigh, the next time that he inhaled, Bucky filled his lungs with the spicy-smoky scent of Steve’s cologne, reminding himself how much he missed it lingering on his sheets and clothes and skin. Holding him in place, firmly and protectively, he relished in the feeling of large, familiar hands pressing into his back. When he closed his eyes, he could feel Steve’s pulse racing as fast as his own, blending together to form one steady rhythm, one heart.

It was the type of hug given between two people who knew that it could be their last one, and Bucky acknowledged that that was a very real possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW!
> 
> Extra, extra long chapter today, but at about halfway through, after all the torment that I’ve put you, the lovely reader, and Bucky through, we’ve all earned it. There we have it, folks! The prom and the talk! A little angst, a little humor, and a little passion thrown in the mix too. 😉
> 
> Now, I turn the question to you: Where's YOUR head at? 😂 
> 
> Seriously, though, I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on this ‘episode’ and your thoughts on this journey as a whole. I have been beyond stoked to share this chapter, in particular, with you all, so if you have a minute, please leave me a comment! If you want to keep the conversation going, you can chat with me on tumblr at buckyandthejets and make sure you're following by Monday when I finally reveal with you all my special surprise. 😊
> 
> 🎧 "Do It, Try It" - M83 & "Particles (Piano Version)" - Nothing But Thieves
> 
> (Obviously, a double-long chapter calls for two song recs! Please enjoy the whiplash you may receive from listening to these two back to back. "Do It, Try It" wonderfully captures the fun, dance-y energy of the prom, shimmying and swaying with the other Islanders, and then, this stripped-down version of NBT's "Particles" could not be more perfect to convey Bucky's heartfelt confession. I believe that Conor Mason is truly one of the greatest vocalists alive right now, and the passion and heart that he pours into every lyric is simply unparalleled. If you usually skip the music, I would highly recommend giving this one a shot - you won't regret it! 😊)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...I hope you're ready for a recoupling 🏝


	29. Chapter 29

**Episode 29**

_He did it._

Bucky finally did it. He told Steve how he felt about him, how he felt about relationships, how he felt about himself, and a whole lot more. It definitely wasn’t the flawlessly-executed closing argument that he was capable of delivering, nowhere close, but it was nevertheless perfect. He said exactly what he needed to say, far more if he was being honest with himself, but that was fine. Steve listened to all of it and held his hands and hugged him when he was done. The ball was in his court now: to weigh his options, compare the two, and decide who could offer him the most. It was either the start of the next part of their relationship, or it was the end of the part that they already had. Either way, he would be happy with what Steve decided.

Because he had to be.

Bucky reminded himself of that basic principle as he stared at the dark ceiling, while Clint snored beside him. The others had passed out relatively quickly, falling into their beds with their partners, exhausted but content after an eventful night. Bucky, though, felt excited energy continuing to buzz under his skin, unable to keep his eyes closed for more than seventeen seconds. (He had started to count.)

But he wasn’t the only one who was restless. In the bed to his right, Bucky could hear Steve struggling to find a comfortable position, shifting every few minutes. (He had started to count.)

As much as he wanted to enjoy the thought of Steve failing to rest comfortably beside a beautiful woman, Bucky took no pleasure in hearing him suffer. Having spent the past week in a similar situation of flipping onto his side just to flip to the other mere seconds later, he knew that there was nothing pleasurable about this, feeling sorry for him and wishing that he could help, which only made it that much harder for _Bucky_ to sleep.

After his twenty-first attempt – (he had started to… _you get the point_ ) – of closing eyes, Bucky heard a noise that forced them to spring open. Eyes wide, he watched Steve pass his bed, walking out of the bedroom, carrying a pillow under one arm. Bucky lifted his head, blinking, as if it to make sure that what he had just seen hadn’t been a dream or illusion or hallucination. To his right, the sight of Peggy sleeping alone confirmed what he almost couldn’t believe. To his left, Riley gasped, and Bucky looked over to see him reach out his hand between their beds. “ _Yes_ , Bucky,” he whispered. “That’s amazing.”

Bucky shook his head; this wasn’t amazing. He shoved the sheets down to the end of the bed, throwing his legs over the side. The hardwood floor felt shockingly cool beneath his feet, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was checking on Steve. _Was he hurt? Was he okay?_

The lights were off in the rest of the house, so he squinted, peering through the shadows to find Steve. Rounding a corner too quickly, all he could see, however, was sparks, white flashes bursting in the dark, as he pinched his eyes closed, cursing under his breath from slamming his foot into an end table.

Casting aside thoughts of a broken toe, he found Steve in the living room, and he was the only thing that mattered.

Steve sat on the couch with his head in his hands, hair a mess and body tense, looking distraught and tortured, lost and lacking guidance. Bucky could audibly hear his heart break at the sight, like a crack in glass, a clean break that shattered into a myriad of other splinters. And it hurt. Far more than stubbing his toe on the leg of a table. Rooted deep in his chest, the pain radiated outward, pulsing through his entire body, sharp and agonizing.

Something instinctive, biological, made him want to rush forward and comfort Steve without hesitation, but he restrained himself, holding back the physical assurance and starting with words. “Steve?” he called out, cautious and soft.

The silence that he received felt overpowering. Combined with the darkness, the pervasive pitch-black veil that covered the room, Bucky felt disoriented as he waited for a response. He felt like the unsettling calm and empty abyss was a reminder that he was doing something wrong, a deterrent against breaking the unspoken Love Island norms of speaking with someone else’s partner, off-mic, alone in the dark.

And he didn’t give a _fuck_.

“Steve?” he repeated, more urgently, in case he hadn’t heard the first time. When that still didn’t earn a response, he moved forward, standing behind the corner of the couch where Steve sat. “Talk to me,” Bucky said, less of a command and more of a suggestion. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The third lack of a response didn’t offend him, but it did make Bucky even more concerned. It made the need to comfort him even more pressing. He did so the only way that felt intuitive. Tentatively, he reached forward with one hand, allowing his fingertips to lightly rest in Steve’s hair to gauge his reaction. Steve remained in place, not flinching away or shaking him off, and Bucky took his stillness as a sign to slip his fingers in deeper. He slowly dragged them to the side, gently tugging the golden tufts, which finally elicited a response from Steve. With a deep sigh passing through his nose, Steve leaned back and pushed Bucky’s fingers deeper into his hair until they reached his scalp. There, Bucky curled his fingertips and rubbed them in small circles, quickly finding an unhurried rhythm.

Bucky lost track of time in the movements, losing himself in Steve’s hair. It was equal parts therapeutic for him to do as he knew that it was for Steve to receive. Bucky recalled the late nights as a child when his Ma tirelessly ran her hands through his curls to relax him when he was sick with a cold and couldn’t sleep. In his teenage and college years, he remembered how Nat had done the same, pulling all-nighters to study for exams. Even Steve, himself, had unknowingly joined the tradition only a week or so after getting to know him, pointing out the colors in his hair like analyzing a work of art.

Now, Bucky offered him the same comfort. Whether he realized it in the moment or not, these motions were an act of love.

And that four-letter word didn’t frighten Bucky in the slightest, because for him, it only felt natural, calling out to him with no other option. Bucky would continue to drag his hands through his hair for as long as Steve needed him to, any time, any day, _every_ day if he asked.

That evening, Steve stopped him with another sigh, reaching behind him without turning around. He held Bucky’s wrist still and simply breathed for a few moments. Bucky allowed him to take as much time as he needed to steady himself, willing to wait forever. Finally, Steve’s voice filled the quiet space, shaky and reserved, coming from the back of his throat, as he admitted, “I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” Bucky said, mirroring his hushed tone of voice.

Steve shook his head. “It’s not. Because no matter what I do tomorrow, someone gets hurt.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Bucky nodded, knowing that what Steve had said was certainly true. “But if you lie to yourself tomorrow and choose an option just because you think it comes with the least repercussions, we all get hurt.”

Steve tightened his grip on Bucky’s wrist before letting go, creating another crack in his heart. “I think I need some time alone.”

Bucky understood completely and backed away, but before he left the living room, he offered one final suggestion: “Get some rest, Steve.”

Ignoring the raised heads and interested looks that he received when he returned to the bedroom, Bucky slipped under the comforter again, forced his eyes closed for the twenty-second time, and promptly ignored his own advice. Hardly resting as he lie flat on his back, Bucky prepared himself to get hurt in the morning.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

[ _Sunlight streaming in through billowing curtains onto plush, white sheets. Fluffy clouds in a clear blue sky. Birds chirping, singing to each other on tree branches. Fresh coffee brewing, crispy bacon frying, and – what’s that? Ah, it’s the scent of unprecedented recoupling ceremony in the morning. My favorite!_ ]

Bucky took his place in the six-person line that faced the fire pit, feeling in no way, shape, or form prepared for the event. Mentally-disheveled, at least he _looked_ decent. He had chosen a cropped pant, one of his favorites, with a loud, black-and-white marble pattern that would hopefully distract from any potential tears. Tucked neatly into the waistband, he wore a plain, black dress shirt, buttoned to the top with silver detailing on the collar to add a bit of intrigue. Everything was crisp and clean, ideally creating the image of poised confidence, while his inner thoughts screamed in terror.

On his right, Peggy looked marvelous, as always. She wore a ruffled blouse – canary yellow, bright and optimistic – tucked into a navy-blue pencil skirt. Boasting all three primary colors, her lips returned to their usual brilliant red. If she was as nervous as Bucky, she did a far better job of hiding it, appearing genuinely enthusiastic when the camera swept in front of them.

They both faced Steve, sitting in the middle of the semicircle around the fire pit, who looked, frankly, miserable. Stunning, of course, in a tight red button-down and light-wash jeans, with his hair seemingly still tousled from Bucky’s fingers, Steve stared down at the deck as he most likely dreamed of being anywhere else. He kept his distance to both Bucky and Peggy throughout the entire hour that they were given to get ready, wandering throughout the villa unsteady and alone. Unlike the night before, Bucky couldn’t exactly cross the space between them and comfort him with his hands.

(Well, he probably could but not without disrupting the entire scene.)

Before he could make any rash decisions, Janet arrived with her typical fanfare in vibrant pink and stood at his left. “Islanders, I hope you enjoyed the dance last night,” she said, something slightly twisted in her grin. “We woke you up early this morning for an exciting recoupling ceremony in which one of you will unfortunately be leaving us. But, before we begin, I think Clint has something that he would like to announce to the other Islanders.”

By that point, Clint had already worked his way around the group to tell the others his plan, but Bucky assumed that this was a formality, framed to shock the audience. Clint rose from his seat with a sweet smile, clapping his hands once and bursting with relieved energy. “Yeah, alright. I’ve been thinking about how I want to phrase this, and I think I’m happy about this. When I came here, I had three goals. First, I wanted to stand apart from the others. I didn’t want to be the guy that blends into the background and everyone forgets about by episode four. I wanted to be unique and different and true to myself, and I think you guys can all agree that I succeeded in doing that.”

The others laughed in agreement, offering him kind-yet-bittersweet smiles, knowing how this speech would end. “Second, I wanted to make new friends, and sorry if you disagree, but I consider all of you my friends now. _Do_ look forward to receiving my Christmas card in December. They may or may not feature images from my modeling campaign with that sex toy company. Seriously, though, I am so glad that this was the season I could be a part of, because I think we all are super different and awesome in our own ways. And, I’m so grateful to have gotten the chance to connect with each one of you.”

Clint shared a laugh, himself, and he averted his gaze, scratching the back of his neck as he suddenly grew shy. “Third, I wanted to meet someone special. Someone that I could connect to on a closer level and grow a future with together, and I think I achieved that goal too. I met the most beautiful woman in the world who was confident and smart and talented and sexy as all hell. I liked her so damn much, and for some unknown reason, I think she liked me back. Unfortunately, she’s not here anymore, and I’m done with pretending that I don’t miss her like crazy. So, today is going to be my last day on the Island. I don’t want any of you to feel bad about that – Bucky, for the love of god, please don’t cry this time.”

Shocked to hear his name, Bucky let out a surprised and ugly laugh, face flushing when the group turned to him.

“Nah, jokes aside,” Clint continued, “I want you all to be happy here. I hope you all can find whatever you’re looking for here, and I hope you find someone that makes you feel as special as Nat makes me feel.” The others applauded, but he interrupted them, not yet finished, as he turned to the cameras to say directly, “Now, Nat, if you’re out there watching this, I want you to know that nothing has changed since you left. My feelings for you are exactly the same. In fact, they may even be stronger than before. There’s no one in this world that could change that. You’re my dream girl, and you always will be. I’ll be with you soon, baby.”

With that, the other Islanders broke out into ecstatic applause.

Bucky clapped more modestly, put in a somewhat odd position, as if listening to someone declare his love for his sister. Which was, in fact, a position that he had been in before when Becca’s fiancé first told Bucky her plans to propose to her on their anniversary. She wasn’t asking permission, which Bucky respected, because Becca was her own woman, not a piece of property to be auctioned off or traded away. Vivian simply laid out her plans to take Becca on the same stroll through Central Park that they took on their first date before slipping the antique ring onto her plate of late-night waffles at their go-to 24/7 diner.

Obviously, the proposal had gone well, and Bucky had no reason to dissent.

It was almost the same situation with Clint, having no influence in his relationship with Nat, which Bucky would never object to anyway. He had witnessed their connection first-hand. At times, they were admittedly hard to believe that they got along so well, but Bucky had seen the spark in her eyes when she stepped forward for Clint on the first day. He had heard the giggle in her voice when she spoke fondly of her circus acrobat. But, above all, the strength of their bond could be seen the best in the moments that were overlooked: the midnight conversations in bed, the subtle glances from across the room, the light touches. They had only known each other for two weeks, but everyone knew that they were completely smitten with each other.

Of course, Bucky agreed.

“Thank you for your kind words and brave decision, Clint,” Janet said and wasted no time before proceeding with the ceremony. “Sam, you are currently coupled with Riley. You may choose to remain in this couple or choose to recouple with Maria, Scott, Thor, Peggy, or Bucky.”

Sam laughed as the supermodel read off the obligatory options, keeping his eyes lovingly locked on the other supermodel in the line, wearing denim overalls over a vintage, floral-print shirt. He continued to gaze at Riley for the entirety of his speech.

Bucky intended to listen to the sweet words that Sam poured out regarding his new boyfriend, but his thoughts drifted back to his own recoupling. The pounding of his heartbeat in his ears soon drowned out Sam’s voice when he looked at Steve who kept his head low, hands clasped tight, also clearly distracted. He wondered if Steve had made his decision yet. _Had he decided the night before? Days before? Or was he leaving it to last-minute intuition?_ Bucky wasn’t even sure he wanted the answer to those questions.

Except, before he realized it was happening, Bucky was forced to confront those answers, as Steve rose from his seat, seemingly in slow-motion. Bucky had mindlessly followed along with the ceremony, clapping when he was supposed to by noticing motion in his peripheral vision, as he kept his attention focused on Steve or around Steve. Now, Steve was standing, and Bucky’s breathing grew shallow, heart speeding up faster and faster.

_Oh, fuck_ , he thought, _this was really happening_.

To his right, Peggy tensed, and her usually-smiling lips were tight, pressed together. Bucky realized that they were the final two standing in the line. Everyone else was sitting around the fire pit in the same couples, no surprises, watching them nervously, eyes shifting around and legs bouncing up and down. Their tension only made him more nervous, but somehow, something deep inside of him told him to do something that others may have perceived as strange.

As a producer instructed them to center themselves, closing the empty space, Bucky reached out his hand to her, offering it openly for her to hold. She paused, brown eyes narrowing in brief confusion, before she accepted it and let their hands fall down to their waists with an appreciative sigh. Her palm was soft but a little clammy, which he definitely didn’t blame for her, considering the fact that he felt the exact same way.

They stood side-by-side, hand-in-hand, and together, they faced Steve.

Clutching her cards, Janet also turned to him, and her voice turned serious when she spoke this time. “Steve, you are currently coupled with Peggy. You may choose to either remain in this couple or recouple with Bucky.”

Long after she had read out the options did Steve show any indication that he had heard her. He finally lifted his head, politely, but his eyes appeared vacant, almost glazed over. Compared to the previous weeks, he seemed like a totally different person. That alluring charm and bravado had been replaced with stress and worry. His shoulders were slumped, instead of being proudly pushed back, puffing out his chest. Whereas Steve beside the camera with a clipboard had all the answers, this Steve appeared to lack any of them.

Bucky absolutely hated seeing this side of him, and if there was one good thing to come out of this ceremony, regardless of the decision made, he hoped to see the end of this stress and worry and shame and confusion.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose before starting that process. “Okay,” he said with a nod, as if reassuring himself. “This was not an easy decision. This might actually be one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever had to make in my entire life. People may scoff at that statement, but I’ve taken my time as a contestant very seriously. I’m not here to find someone to just have fun with for the summer. I’m here to find someone that I can plan my future with, and in a short amount of time, I met two people who I can easily see myself building incredibly strong and meaningful relationships with. They’re both brilliant and beautiful, and I have no doubt in my mind that the person I don’t pick today will find the person that loves them the way that they deserve to be loved.”

Sighing, Steve gave himself a second to compose himself, as his voice started to shake, and he wiped at the corners his eyes. “I am so sorry to the person that I don’t pick, and I don’t want them to take this decision personally, because I think they are truly incredible. Even though I may not be building a romantic future with them, they have greatly helped me to further understand who I am and what I want in life. I cannot thank them enough for supporting me through this time, and I hope that we can still find a way to be friends.”

He took a quick breath and carried on, regaining confidence as he worked through his final explanation. “I went into this decision considering who I could develop the most powerful, long-lasting relationship with. I thought of who I could see myself dating outside of the villa. Who I could introduce to Ma back home and bring home for the holidays. I thought of who I could fall in love with. Who I want to hold in my arms every night and wake up beside every morning. Who I want to travel the world with and bring as my date to every one of my documentary premieres. Who I want to inevitably walk with me down the red carpet when I win my first Oscar. Who I want to make unbreakable promises with and never, ever abandon. I thought of the person who, one day, I could marry and spend the rest of my life with.”

Bucky sucked in a silent gasp, and Peggy squeezed his hand.

“With that being said,” Steve concluded, “the person that I’d like to couple up with is…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /Cut to commercial/
> 
> I'M SORRY! I know I'm the worst, but I absolutely had to do it. C'mon, you have to admit it's the PERFECT reality TV moment 😅
> 
> And I mean, we all know who Steve is going to pick, right? Or do we? We'll find out tomorrow 😉
> 
> Please feel free to yell at me in the comments (but maybe include some nice thoughts too 😅) Seriously, though, let me know your thoughts; I truly appreciate reading through your responses 😊😊😊
> 
> Tomorrow is going to be amazing, so make sure you're following me on Tumblr (buckyandthejets) to check out this awesome accompanying surprise!
> 
> 🎧 "Trade Mistakes" - Panic! at the Disco
> 
> (So many song recs for these chapters, but with this part of the story being so emotionally-charged, I think it's appropriate. To me, music IS emotion. This song in particular perfectly captures that feeling of being unable to sleep at night when your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of someone else, which has been a recurring theme this past week and truly exemplified in the first half of the chapter. It's beyond beautiful, and I hope you enjoy it!)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...We find out who Steve chose 🏝


	30. Chapter 30

**Episode 30**

Bucky wrapped his arms around Peggy’s back. He breathed in her sweet perfume and felt her unsteady breathing beneath his hands. As for himself, he felt equally-shaky, requiring the support that she provided as she held onto his waist, but unlike her, he stopped breathing completely when Steve finished that final sentence. Bucky hadn’t even fully understood the name that he said until Peggy whispered in his ear, “Congratulations.”

Freezing in place, the reality of the situation came into focus. The other Islanders were clapping to his left. Janet stood behind him, as well as the rest of the production crew, and _Steve_ –

Steve stood in the middle of the group around the fire pit. Slowly, Bucky turned his head as he stepped away from Peggy’s embrace, still attempting to process what had happened. They were woken up early to get ready for the recoupling ceremony, just enough time for Bucky to shower, shave, and throw on an acceptable outfit. Janet arrived and allowed Clint to start the ceremony, telling the other Islanders that he was eliminating himself from the show. Everyone else chose the same partners, and their decisions passed by in a blur. Then, Steve said these remarkable, powerful, moving things, speaking about the future that he dreamed of, creating a life together and building a home out of love, with the person that he chose. And the person that he chose was…

_Bucky_.

Bucky didn’t know how to react. Did he smile? Did he jump up and down? Did he run over to Steve and be swept away in his arms? Or did he play it cool, staying calm and collected, purposefully not enthusiastic as not to brag in front of Peggy?

He ended up doing none of that, thoughts and feelings too jumbled and conflicted to think of a proper course of action. On one hand, Steve choosing him was exactly what he wanted – the _only_ thing he wanted from this recoupling. He wanted to be ecstatic about that, screaming into the sky to release all of the fears and worries that he had kept bottled inside for the past week. But on the other hand, he also felt a little nervous. He wanted to make sure that Steve solely chose him because it was the option _he_ wanted, not because he felt forced to or guilted into choosing. And there was definitely a part of him that didn’t want to insult Peggy, the woman who opened her heart to a stranger and the world, only to be let down by the one person that she had gotten to know on that personal level.

So, he stepped forward. Steve’s welcoming smile and pleading eyes began to melt away his hesitation, easing more and more as he moved closer until he found the ability to share a smile of his own. He aimed it directly at Steve, who held out both of his hands, and Bucky accepted them immediately. Instantly, as their hands reconnected, he was reminded of the warm sun beating down on his back, but its comfort and brilliance had nothing on Steve’s gentle hands and blinding, white teeth.

Squeezing Steve’s hands, Bucky peered deeply into his eyes, finding his own reflected in his new favorite shade of blue. “Are you sure about this?” Bucky asked without giving a single thought to the others that surrounded them.

Steve raised his eyebrows, as if taken aback by the question. “Absolutely,” Steve said, voice probably not even able to be picked up by the microphones in a low murmur, just for Bucky to hear. “I’ve never been more sure about anything else in my entire life.”

Bucky felt his face flush, finally catching up to the heat that both Steve and the sun radiated. “Okay.”

“Is this what _you_ want, though?” Steve asked, still breaking from the script.

Bucky swallowed with an eager nod and finally felt his eyes catch up to the overwhelming emotions of the morning, as well, tears swelling at the corners. “More than anything,” he said through a sob, unable to keep himself from leaping forward any longer, pulling Steve into a tight hug.

Rumbling in his chest, Steve chuckled. “I’m here, I’m here,” he repeated, a mantra of reassurance that vibrated against the ear Bucky had pressed against his firm pectoral muscle. Steve’s relieved sigh brushed over his forehead, as he brought one of his hands to lightly rest in the back of Bucky’s hair, bringing this moment beautifully full-circle.

Bucky lost track of the amount of time that they stood like that with his tears staining Steve’s shirt while he whispered tender words against the top of his head. The producers allowed them to take as long as they needed. When they eventually untangled themselves, Bucky sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. Steve kept him tucked into his side with an arm around his shoulders.

Unfortunately, standing at each other’s sides meant that they had to face,

“Peggy,” Janet said with an apologetic sigh, “you were not selected in the recoupling this morning, but thanks to Clint’s sacrifice, you will be able to remain on the Island. Now single, you will be given another chance to find your perfect match.”

Showing no cracks in her exterior, except for faint sadness well-hidden in her dark eyes, Peggy tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and nodded. “Thank you very much for the opportunity.”

Janet then turned to the rest of the group. “Unfortunately, Clint, that means you will be asked to leave the villa. You’ll have a few minutes to pack and say goodbye to the fellow Islanders.”

Clint rose with a shrug and was immediately enveloped by a large group hug, started by Thor before incorporating everyone else. They all walked with him to the third dressing room, somehow fitting themselves into the small box, so that everyone could help pack something into his suitcase. From the closet, they created an assembly-line that passed brightly-colored shirts and swim trunks along to the people at the vanity who passed along hair products and skin-care products until they reached Clint who haphazardly threw all of the items into his suitcase with no perceivable method of organization. They crowded around him one last time to say their final goodbyes, exchanging hugs and words of advice, at the door to the house.

“It’s been a real pleasure getting to sleep with you this week,” Clint said, saving Bucky’s hug for second-to-last. When they pulled apart, Clint tipped an invisible cowboy hat and added in a gruff Texan accent, “Partner.”

With a short, breathy laugh, Bucky watched Clint give Steve the final hug and a solid pat on the back. “Remember what I said before, blondie.”

Steve nodded, glancing at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. “You got nothing to worry about.”

“I know I don’t.” Clint winked at them both before spreading out his arms, centering himself in the arch of the others, and taking a dramatic bow, knees bent and head hanging low. “Alrighty, then. I bid all you lovebirds farewell.”

All eleven of them cheered when he stepped through the threshold and into the outside world. On tiptoes, bobbing and weaving around each other, they watched him roll his suitcase down the cobblestone path, and when he reached the end, even through the screen door, they could hear him shout, “You hear that, Natty Ice? I’m coming for you!”

Imagining Nat’s face when she watched this on her TV in the living room, chucking popcorn at the screen, Bucky shook his head and knew damn well that he would be seeing Clint Barton again in the near future.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

“So,” Bucky began, as he laid on his side, facing Steve on what had been their go-to daybed before the – you know, _everything_ that happened. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” Steve agreed, smooth and suave but clearly still shaken from the nerves of the recoupling.

It was sunny and warm, bathing them in golden rays of light, while a soft breeze occasionally blew past to keep them cool. Bucky felt just as sunny and warm on the inside, so relieved and thankful. Still, he had a few lingering questions. “Are you happy you picked me?”

With another one of his did-you-really-just-ask-that expressions, Steve scoffed with no malice. “Oh god, Bucky. Of course, I’m happy.”

The urgency and earnestness of that admission made the corners of Bucky’s lips raise on their own accord. “Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

“What? You mean all those things I said at the recoupling?” Steve must have caught the blush that appeared on Bucky’s cheeks. A light dusting of pink covered his own face as he further explained himself. “I’m sorry if I took things too far this morning. I got a little in my head – or, heart, maybe – and started saying whatever came to mind. It’s true that I feel all of that for you and I hope that we can develop a relationship like that, but only if you want to, as well. And I understand if it’s still too early to make a lot of those commitments. There is one commitment, though, that I’m at least ready to make, and it’s that I only want to stay coupled with you for the rest of the show. There’s no one else in the world that could possibly turn my head, and I’m ready to be exclusive if you are.”

Bucky’s heart swelled at those words, feeling as if he was living a dream, and perhaps he took too long to reply, because Steve continued, starting to nervously ramble. “Obviously, I’m not suggesting, like, Sam and Riley’s level of exclusive, putting a label on it, calling each other boyfriend – not like that’s a bad thing! At some point, I’d definitely be down for that, but for now–”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted, gently laying a hand on Steve’s hands where they were stirring the air, and swallowed the nerves for them both. “My biggest regret through this whole thing was _not_ telling you that I wanted to be exclusive with you.”

Steve took Bucky’s hand between his two. “Really? You want that?”

Now, it was Bucky’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “Of course, I want to be exclusive with you.”

With a sigh, in plentiful abundance that morning, Steve brought their hands to the center of his chest, and Bucky could feel his pounding, open heart. “That means so much to me, Bucky. You have no idea.”

_Exclusive_. What he should have told Steve in the first place, but instead, Bucky's traitorous tongue told Steve to explore his relationship with Peggy. But that was the past, and this was their future. Their future _together_ \- not only on the Island, for this stupid show, but Bucky could imagine their relationship lasting far longer. This was all that he ever could have wanted from this experience, and he had no idea when he first arrived. But this was okay. They were okay; they would _be_ okay. They would get through this show together and anything else that life wanted to throw at them.

Leaning back, they remained in that position for a good while, breathing each other in and out, a steady and comfortable pace. Finally, Steve admitted, a bit quieter, “I still feel bad for Peggy. We obviously did have a connection and she’s an amazing woman, but – I don’t know,” he said and shook his head. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was a tough decision, because there were a lot of moments with her that meant so much to me and I could see myself having a good relationship with her.”

Bucky knew not to take offense to that suggestion with the huge development in their own relationship, but it still hurt to hear from his not-boyfriend-but-sort-of-boyfriend. He mimicked his softer tone of voice. “What made you pick me then?”

Steve sat up straighter against the headboard and cleared his throat. “Everything I said earlier was absolutely true. I see myself building the strongest relationship with you, and I _want_ to build that relationship with you. I want to go the distance or at least as far as that distance will take us. I couldn’t see that with her. I couldn’t hold her the same way I hold you. I couldn’t kiss her at all. That one kiss at the challenge was the only one that we shared."

Listening to Steve's quiet voice, Bucky realized that...he was wrong. He assumed all of these things, imagining horrific nightmares to keep himself up at night, Steve holding Peggy against his chest and kissing her as they fell asleep, but those images were plain and simply _wrong_.

But before he could chastise himself and his anxieties, Steve continued talking. "And, not to take a page from Clint’s book, but I guess there were three things that helped me realize how much you mean to me.”

As his blush deepened, blood even warmer, Bucky fought the inner instinct to cover his face and continued to face Steve head-on. “What things?”

“Well, the first one was at the dance.” Steve smirked and removed one hand from the tangled ones at his chest, so that he could slip his arm behind Bucky’s head, pulling him closer. “At the beginning, when we weren’t dancing in our couples, we were all having a good time. Watching Peggy dance with Scott and Maria made me laugh, and I thought it was fun. But then I saw _you_. That’s when I stopped having fun. You were dancing with Thor, pressed close together, and he had his hands all over you. It’s not like you were doing anything wrong in any way, but it made me furious. I felt sick to my stomach, and I couldn’t stand it. I had to walk away. I’m sorry if that’s grossly possessive or territorial, but I’ll be the first to admit it: I was jealous. And only for you.”

_Damn_.

As much as he felt sorry for making Steve so upset for something that he did, Bucky knew that he had nothing to apologize for and had even felt something similar when watching Steve dance with Peggy. There was also something so – frankly and shamefully – _hot_ about hearing how Steve’s blood boiled at the sight of Bucky in the arms of another man. Trying on a smirk of his own, Bucky walked two fingers up Steve’s chest before stopping to lightly pinch his chin. “So, what you’re saying is that I should make you jealous more often?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Steve said with a dark chuckle before lightening the mood. “The second thing was sweeter. It was when you came out to the living room last night to check on me.”

“Aw,” Bucky cooed, nuzzling his cheek against Steve’s forearm. “I didn’t even mean too much by that.”

“You did, though, and it meant a lot to me. You were the only person out of _all_ of the Islanders to come check on me.”

“It was the very least I could do.”

“Bucky, you pet my hair for _thirty minutes_.”

Bucky blinked up at him. “What? Really?”

“Yeah.” Steve laughed and twirled a finger in the ends of his hair, as if to demonstrate. “I meant to stop you at, like, five minutes, but you just kept going. Five turned into ten and then fifteen until thirty seemed a little excessive to me. I imagine you lost feeling in your hands at that point.”

Shrugging, Bucky recalled feeling perfectly fine, prepared to go the full hour or longer if Steve never stopped him. “It felt like the right thing do.”

“Yeah, well, now it feels like the right thing to do is repay you,” Steve said, shifting his hand further into Bucky’s curls and moving his fingertips in the same circular motions that Bucky used the night before.

Bucky melted into his touch, confronting his weakness and feeling his eyelids start to grow heavier and heavier, difficult to keep open. Lulled by the comfort of returning to their favorite spot in the villa, together, as a couple. Relaxed by falling into the same easy banter. Thrilled to finally be back to being _them_. Before he let them shut fully, though, Bucky needed the finality to this conversation. “What was the third reason?”

Reluctantly lifting his other hand out of Bucky’s grasp against his chest, Steve held Bucky’s collar between his fingers, running his thumb over the silver beads. “This was the shirt you wore on our first date."

Bucky practically sank into the mattress, as he asked, “You remember that?”

_He_ didn’t even remember that when he was throwing his outfit together.

Steve gave his collar a gentle tug. “I’m pretty sure I’ll remember the sight of you rounding that corner until the day I die. When I saw you wearing this shirt this morning, all I could think about was how fantastic that dinner was with you. I thought about the spark that we had and realized that no one else could possibly make me feel the same way that quickly. I decided this morning that if we can get through _this_ , then we can get through anything together.”

_Holy fuck_. He leaned in closer, planting his head on Steve’s bicep. At a loss for words, he simply agreed with Steve’s. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Steve grinned and moved his hand from holding Bucky’s collar to cupping Bucky’s jaw. Only one final question could to truly steal the air from Bucky’s lungs: “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Bucky helped close the space between them, meeting with a kiss, once, twice, three times, before losing count in the same way that he lost count of the minutes that he kept his fingers in Steve’s hair.

In all of his ramblings and fears, late-night anxieties, and imagined nightmares, Bucky had been right about one thing: this was the start of the next stage of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And everyone may now let out a collective sigh of relief! 😅
> 
> Congratulations on surviving Angst Week! Give yourself a pat on the back, go listen to your favorite songs, watch videos of puppies - anything you do to celebrate! 🎉🎉🎉
> 
> Now that our favorite couple is back together, does that mean the surprises are over? Oh, HELL no! This is a reality TV show through and through, and there will be plenty more twists and turns in the future. But, for now, the ship has been righted and may proceed sailing smoothly. (...Or relatively smoothly 😉)
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all the love and support! I cannot thank you enough for helping make my dreams come true with this story. As a thank you, please head over to buckyandthejets.tumblr.com for a little surprise that has been a collaborative effort, months in the making, and it is all thanks to you, lovely readers! 💜
> 
> 🎧 "Youuu" - COIN
> 
> (This beautiful part would be incomplete without an accompanying soundtrack, so please enjoy one of my favorite songs from COIN, a terrific indie band from your favorite Riley's home state of Tennessee! It's fun and dance-y and poppy, but the lyrics are incredibly deep and truly reflect Steve's thought process throughout this week. Yeah, I said that correctly! STEVE'S thoughts! 😅)
> 
> Next up on Love Island...Where do we go from here? 😉


	31. Chapter 31

**Episode 31**

“Bucky.”

Keeping his eyes closed, Bucky grunted, shifting back in Steve’s arms, wondering what he wanted without having to ask.

“ _Bucky_.”

The whisper was louder this time, and Bucky opened his eyes with a light gasp. “Steve?”

“ _Shh_!” He was hushed, as something painfully-bright was thrust into his face.

Blinking away the bleariness of sleep, Bucky struggled to comprehend what was happening. He knew they had gone to sleep for the night and that it was early in the morning and that he had finally returned to his bed with Steve – _their_ bed. Behind him, Steve was still sound asleep, wrapped around him with his lips pressed against the back of his neck and his nose tucked beneath his ear, letting out steady, even breaths. In front of him, Riley squatted on the floor at the edge of the bed, holding out his phone for Bucky to read the message on the screen. Hoping that it would give him more answers, Bucky squinted to put the blurry letters in the correct order.

_Riley, please wake up Scott, Bucky, Peggy, Val and Carol without waking up their partners and meet in the foyer_.

Still confused, Bucky mouthed with the smallest hint of his voice, “What?”

Riley shrugged.

“Do I have to?”

Riley nodded.

Feeling Steve shift against him, readjusting his head on their shared pillows, Bucky suppressed the urge to groan. All he wanted was to stay there in that moment, held in Steve’s arms, like he was the most precious and important thing in his life. Bucky could have laid there for eternity, but unfortunately, that wasn’t a possibility on this godforsaken show.

Slowly, Bucky laid his hand on top of the one that Steve pressed down on Bucky’s hip. One by one, Bucky lifted off each of Steve’s fingers and carefully rolled off of the side of the bed. Bucky felt a bit reminiscent of Indiana Jones when he tucked the comforter under Steve’s hand, completing the flawless exchange. As he planted his feet quietly on the floor, Bucky turned his head over his shoulder to give Steve one last glance. Even in the dark, Steve’s long eyelashes sparkled with gold amber, gently caressing his strong cheekbones.

It took all the strength in his body to not to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead.

He restrained himself, and soon, he found himself in the foyer with five of the others, beneath the plastic chandelier, where it felt like they had only just said goodbye to Clint. They were in an eclectic mix of sleepwear: underwear, shorts, and t-shirts. Val and Carol whispered excited things back and forth to each other, while Scott still seemed to be adjusting to the daylight, covering his eyes. Peggy received the next text, and she read it in a muted tone, “Islanders, please go upstairs and get ready. In thirty minutes, a producer will be waiting out front to tell you where you will be going next.”

“What’s happening?” Bucky asked Riley when they made it to their dressing room.

With a pout, Riley sighed, eyelids drooping and almost sad. “I have an idea and I don’t like it, so I’m gonna hope that it’s not true.”

“Okay.” _Not very helpful_ , Bucky thought and turned to his closet. “What should we wear then?”

“I’m just going casual.”

‘Casual’ turned out to be a white kimono wrap with fringe that reached the floor over a white V-neck that was French-tucked – _yes, Bucky watched Queer Eye_ – into loose-fitting, light-wash jeans, covered in a variety of different plaid and flannel patches. Bucky wore a black t-shirt and black jeans with white sneakers for a little pop of something else. _Good enough_.

Outside, in front of the house, a producer stood beside a van. “Alright, Islanders, congratulations. You six will be going to _Casa Amor_!”

Carol, Val, Peggy, and Scott screamed and cheered in delight, Riley crossed his arms with a sigh, and Bucky stood still, confused and somewhat scared.

“What’s happening?” Bucky asked again after they climbed into the van, taking the back row with Riley.

Riley rested his head against the back window, shielding his eyes with his heart-shaped sunglasses. “Casa Amor is basically the sister villa to this villa. Halfway through the season, they take half of the happy couples and force them to interact with totally new people at Casa Amor, and they bring in totally new people to take our places in the main villa. In theory, it’s supposed to tempt us away from our partners, and at the end, everyone has to decide whether to stay with their old couple or recouple with someone else.”

The others in front of them let out _woo_!’s, as if that premise was wonderful, rather than absolutely terrifying. Bucky felt his eyebrows pinch together. “What? For how long?”

“Could be a few days,” Scott piped in.

“Could be a week,” Val added.

A _week_? No, absolutely not. Bucky refused to believe that. He had already spent a week apart from Steve; there was no way in hell that he was doing that again for a _second_ week.

But before Bucky could voice his complaints and concerns, the producer took the driver’s seat, and Peggy fluffed the back of her hair with a cherry-red smirk. “Listen, as a _very_ single woman, I am fully taking advantage of this opportunity.”

The still-lingering guilt told Bucky to smile, and when the van started to move, he buckled in for a long ride, both literally and metaphorically.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

“I have zero interest in being here,” Bucky deadpanned when they reached the deck of Casa Amor.

Like the main villa, the outside area was terraced with the kitchenette on the top deck. Down the first set of stairs brought them to the daybeds and bench seating, and the lowest deck featured the shimmering pool, fake grass, and deck chairs. The main differences were in the patterns of the cushions on the seating and chairs, and the overall colors. Where the main villa was all warm, sandy beige tones, Casa Amor showed off cool blues. Somehow the calm colors were deeply unsettling, almost Uncanny Valley: everything nearly identical, except for one small detail.

“Tell me about it,” Riley said, standing at his side and shaking his head, while they looked over the deck areas. Then, he grabbed Bucky’s hand. “C’mon, let’s find the confessional and bitch about it.”

Assuming that they could find it in the small bungalow, Bucky and Riley were proven correct when they saw the same wicker loveseat and palm-tree backdrop. Their appearance surprised the intern, a cute kid with messy, brown hair beneath a snapback who had to be finishing his senior year of studying television production, punching buttons and changing settings on the camera. “Oh, hey guys! Hi, Riley! Hi, Bucky! It’s so cool actually getting to meet you two. I’m Peter. How are you guys feeling?”

_Oh, no_ , Peter was too sweet, and pursing his lips, turning up his nose, Riley looked like he had a death wish. He crossed his legs after taking his seat, patting the cushion to his left and beckoning Bucky over. Following along, Bucky joined him without question and watched Riley work his magic. “We’re not happy, Peter. Not happy at all.”

Peter’s face, full of unbridled excitement and joy, immediately fell. “Oh. I – I’m sorry. Can I help you in any way?”

“Sure. You can start by sending us back to the main villa.”

“Oh, uh,” Peter stammered through a response, “um, yeah. I’m not super sure I can do that.”

Riley’s smile was kind but sharp. “Then you can introduce us to the people that _can_.”

Eyes wide, Peter was almost speechless, breathing out in surprise, “What?”

“This is bullshit, and y’all know it. Bucky and I are obviously in the top two couples. I don’t need to see the numbers or public vote results to know that the episodes that focus on me and Sam and him and Steve give you the highest ratings. It’s insulting and disgraceful to think that any of us would choose anyone else, and the audience knows that. So, not only is the idea of separating us and forcing us to get to know other people _stupid_ , but it’s gonna cost ya. ‘Cause if it were me in front of my TV, I’m sure as hell not tuning in to see my favorite couples _not_ together, and I reckon your bosses would agree. So, how ‘bout you introduce us to them, and we can get back to makin’ y’all money.”

For a model, Riley knew how to put together one hell of an argument. Comfortably, he threw around his clout and understanding of production, like he had done it before, and given one reality competition win under his belt, Bucky knew there was a decent chance that that was true.

While Bucky looked at him fondly with respect and admiration, Peter looked at Riley about ready to cry. “Oh, um, right. Who – uh, who do you want to talk to?”

Bucky quickly racked his brain for the conversation that he had had over a week prior. He remembered the daybed and Steve beside him but – _ugh_ , what were the names? He was well-acquainted with having a weird nickname himself, so what was Handlebar Mustache’s name? “Dum Dum,” Bucky said as soon as it came to him in a flash. “Does that mean something to you?”

Shocked, Peter nodded, and even more shocked, Riley gently slapped his arm. “You know the producers’ _names_?”

Mentally apologizing to Steve since this was probably something he shouldn’t have admitted, Bucky shrugged. “Let’s just say I have an inside source.”

Riley gripped his arm, mischievous grin growing wider. “Oh, _honey_. Who else can we call out?”

Bucky played along, hearing the rest of the crew’s names in his head. “There’s also a Jones–”

As if disgusted by hearing his own last name, Riley scoffed. “What the fuck, Jones? You really have the audacity to fuck over another Jones like this?”

“–and there’s a guy named Monty.”

“Monty, you’re a _monster_.”

“Jim Morita runs sound, I think.”

A dark lightbulb appeared to blink in Riley’s head, and he raised his mic to his mouth. “Hi, Jim,” he whispered in an unnervingly-calm, soft tone, as if speaking directly into the man's ear. “Jim, hi. Why are you doing this to us, Jim? Jim, do you hate us? Answer us, Jim.”

Laughing at the absurdity of dropping their names so casually, blatantly breaking that contestant-producer barrier, Bucky shook his head. “I think there’s only one left, and that’s–”

“ _Okay_!”

The door of the bungalow slammed open, hitting against the side, and Bucky and Riley jumped in their seats, turning their heads to see Dernier enter the room, fuming. Peter, who had been stepping back, back, back with each name that Bucky listed, took that as his cue to run out of the door.

Rubbing his temples, Dernier focused his ominous gaze at Bucky and Riley, saying sternly, “This stops here. Right here, right now.”

“Fine,” Riley said, challenging him. “We’ll stop when you send us back to the villa.”

Bucky swore that he saw a vein pop in the producer’s forehead. “You two should be the _last_ people I need to be saying this to. When we picked you for the show, you signed a contract, and in that contract, you agreed to play by the rules. You play by our rules here. _We_ do not take orders from _you_. If you would like to disagree and keep this up, then you won’t be going back to the villa at all, because we will be sending you home for violating your contracts and harassing the staff.”

“ _Harassing_ you?” Riley interrupted, and Bucky shot him a nervous glance, shaking his head to cut him off.

Dernier gave a sharp nod. “Yes, _harassing_ us. So, unless you want to lose your spots on the show for good, I suggest you keep our names out of your mouths and go out there and meet the new Islanders when we tell you to. Do I make myself clear?”

Riley swallowed any objections that he may have had and answered for them both. “We understand.”

After Dernier left the shack, Bucky and Riley remained still for a few moments, sitting in the tense, volatile atmosphere. Bucky felt his skin prickle with nerves and embarrassment. Knowing that he was red in the face, he was reminded of his school days, as if he had been scolded by the principal for being a disruption in class.

Riley’s laughter broke the silence, quiet at first before growing into a raucous cackle. “Oh my god! Did we just get in trouble?”

Bucky giggled, cringed at the fact that he was giggling, and then giggled harder. “Yeah, yeah, I think we did.”

“Wow.” Rising from his seat, Riley extended his arm to offer Bucky a hand, still choked up by the aftershocks of his laughter. “Alright, let’s go get this over with and hopefully not get kicked off the show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, this would not be THE Love Island AU without a little trip to Casa Amor 😉
> 
> For those of you who may not be familiar with the show, it is exactly what Riley describes. Perhaps, the most WILD decision for a reality show - after the audience finally has gotten to know the main characters and the couples have finally settled in together comfortably, Casa Amor completely disrupts that. Half are taken away to a new villa to meet new people, and new people are brought into the main villa to get to know the other half. WILD! 
> 
> Obviously, Bucky and Steve have already been through plenty of obstacles together, so really, what's one more? 😅
> 
> I cannot thank you enough for the reaction to yesterday's chapter and my little surprise on Tumblr! Yesterday's chapter was so incredibly heartwarming for me to post and see people thrilled about the progress in Bucky and Steve's relationship. So much more to come too! 😊 If you haven't seen it yet, swing on over to buckyandthejets.tumblr.com to check out the BEAUTIFUL new digital art that an excellent friend created, and please feel free to share it with all your friends 😅 Thank you so, so much to everyone who already has! (The art is a general image, but it relates to a very specific scene that when we get to it, I know your jaw will drop!) 😄
> 
> 🎧 UNHhhh
> 
> (Drag culture is huge to me! And OH, HONEY, as soon as I wrote Riley saying, “Oh, honey,” I couldn’t stop laughing at the thought of the future Riley Wilson as Trixie Mattel, which would obviously make Bucky Barnes a brunette Katya, and that’s just one of my favorite mental images ever. So, instead of recommending an indie song that vaguely relates to the plot, go watch an episode of UNHhhh on YouTube and think about Riley and Bucky as iconic drag queens in front of a green screen. Trixie and Katya have such an incredible friendship that in a very odd, roundabout way sort of reflects the friendship that Bucky and Riley create on this show. Oh, and if you want to make this fantasy a reality and perhaps draw Riley and Bucky in Trixie and Katya’s outfits and makeup, please send it my way, and I will write you into my will.)
> 
> Okay! Next time on Love Island...We'll meet the new Islanders at Casa Amor, but we might also get a surprise from the main villa! 😉


	32. Chapter 32

**Episode 32**

By the end of the forced introductions, Bucky was reminded that _yes_ , his nickname sounded silly for a grown man. (“ _Little sisters, right? Haha…_ ”) After repeating the same spiel to the sixth person, Bucky was over it. He could no longer keep the pained smile on his face, struggling to care enough about his own job and interests to listen to a stranger rant about theirs.

And their _names. God_ , how was he supposed to remember their names? He looked around the interspersed groups to test himself. Okay, Val was talking Nebula, an app-developer from Seattle with a cool name and equally-cool blue hair. Scott had immediately taken to a woman named Hope, a stunning brunette with an eerily-familiar face who ran a nonprofit in San Francisco. Carol chatted about her own practice as a healthcare professional with Stephen, a family doctor from New York, and Peggy appeared smitten by a bartender from Chicago named Angie. With his arms crossed, Riley looked unenthused by an enthusiastic radio DJ from LA, Peter Q. (Not the intern, who Bucky assumed was still hiding in a closet somewhere.) That left Bucky, himself, talking to T’Challa, an architect from Pittsburgh who was admittedly one of the most gorgeous men he had ever seen, but with Steve on his mind and in his heart, he couldn’t even think that way.

Especially when he remembered that Steve was probably having these same conversations with other gorgeous people.

That thought nagged at him for the rest of the day, gnawing at the back of his mind. Probably being haunted by the same thought, Riley rested a comforting hand on his, laying them on the arms of their adjacent deck chairs. “Don’t be nervous,” he said.

“Easier said than done,” Bucky replied, sounding a bit more bitter than he intended.

“Please, you have absolutely _nothing_ to worry about, doll. You two are exclusive now. He’s not leaving you.”

“I know. It’s just…” Bucky trailed off with a sigh. “I wanted to spend this week catching up on all the time we missed together _last_ week, not sharing small-talk with strangers.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. I love chit-chatting with you, but there’s no place I’d rather be than with my Sammie right now. Wrapped up in his big, strong arms. Cuddlin’ in bed. Lazy smooches with a _lot_ , a lot of tongue–”

“Got it,” Bucky interrupted, not needing the full X-rated picture.

Thankfully for his sanity, Val called from the kitchenette, “Riley! Bucky! We got a surprise!”

Thankfully for his sanity, the surprise was not being taken away to yet another private villa to meet yet another group of strangers, tearing him apart from the one person he wanted to be with. The surprise actually turned out to be quite nice too. Six black, nondescript suitcases were laid on each of the six beds in the bedroom – _a disturbing fact that Bucky would have to address later_. Following the same layout as the practically-identical bedroom in the main villa, Bucky found his name on the luggage tag of the suitcase on the bed beside Riley’s, as the others found their own. “These were sent over from the main villa,” Val continued to explain. “All of our partners packed them.”

A look of excitement followed by mild concern spread across Riley’s face, evident in the gymnastics that his perfectly-sculpted eyebrows performed. With eagerness but also hesitation, jerky but slow movements, he reached for the zipper. “I bet he packed my ugliest things,” Riley said with a slight laugh.

“Do you even own–”

Bucky cut himself off at the overwhelming scent that poured out of Riley’s suitcase when he flipped it open. It was earthy and dark, rich like a wooded forest, but it also had hints of bright notes. It was citrusy, almost like lemon or grapefruit or – _orange_. It was somehow sweet too, like vanilla, and at the same time, it was refreshing, like mint.

“It’s Sam’s cologne.” Riley pulled out a white t-shirt that reeked with the stench, as if Sam had simply doused the shirt in it, spraying it relentlessly before throwing it on top of the pile of clothes in the suitcase. Lifting it to his face, Riley breathed it in, holding his breath like it could get him high, and then threw his head back with an orgasmic exhale.

When he opened his own suitcase, Bucky was greeted with the similarly-powerful scent of a different expensive cologne that instantly put a smile on his face. He raised his own white t-shirt – or, rather, _Steve’s_ t-shirt – to his face and inhaled the warm mix of spices and sandalwood. But Bucky noticed an additional note of something more organic. Natural musk tinged with something a little salty. Bucky needed to suppress an involuntary groan when he realized that it was sweat, like Steve had worn the shirt in the morning during his usual workout, sweating in the sunlight while maxing out his weights before pouring half a bottle of cologne on it to send to Bucky, and _oh,_ _fuck_ , that thought should not have been so hot.

But the gesture was sweet. It was sincere. The shirt and the cologne and the sweat were a reminder of what was his, that _he_ was his, and that Bucky would be his too if he decided to wear it, which he very much wanted to do if he ever had a moment alone.

Reluctantly dropping the shirt to the bed, Bucky continued to rifle through the suitcase. As Riley anticipated, neither of the boys packed anything too fancy. Nothing special, nothing designer. Bucky pulled out a variety of boring t-shirts or button-downs that he had worn before, and Riley laughed at the shirts he pulled from his. “Most of these I just wear to _sleep_ in!”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, you could wear a washcloth tied on by string and still call it high fashion.”

“Ooh, I should try that some time,” Riley mused before lifting out an old, yellow Vanderbilt t-shirt with half of the white letters faded and flaking off. “ _This_? This is not high fashion.”

“No way, you could definitely walk that down a runway.” As his eyes drifted down to Riley’s suitcase, Bucky found himself more interested in a pair of white briefs. He picked them up carefully by the waistband with only two fingers. “Not sure about these, though. They don’t seem like your style.”

Riley’s eyes widened as his grin widened at the same time. “That’s ‘cause they’re not.”

Putting two and two together to get the sum of _Sam’s underwear in his hand_ , Bucky let go of them immediately. “Oh.”

Riley laughed, nodding in the direction of Bucky’s suitcase where a similar pair of tighty-whities was sitting innocuously in plain view. The Calvin Klein logo across the waistband gave a clearer indication of their owner, and Bucky blushed. Were these like the t-shirt? Had Steve worn them to – and _no, no, no_ , Bucky could not follow that train of thought in a room of his competitors and friends.

Which reminded him of a very different question: “Are we supposed to sleep here?”

Wrapping Sam’s t-shirt around his neck like a scarf, Riley shook his head. “Only if you want to sleep with someone new, which I don’t think you do. People in exclusive couples or people who just want to stay with their original partners typically sleep outside on the daybeds.”

_The daybeds? Outside?_ They definitely weren’t the most comfortable option and Bucky would definitely need to apply a few extra layers of bug repellant, but it was the only option. There were no others.

So, hours later, after they had showered and changed and brushed their teeth, feeling squeaky clean and minty fresh, Bucky joined Riley on one of the daybeds. His back already hurt only one minute in, but he knew that it would be totally worth it when he would return to the main villa and be able to fall asleep in Steve’s arms again. Avoiding the clashing of strong colognes, they both left the t-shirts in their suitcases, so that they only smelled faintly of chemicals that would ward off mosquitos. As if they had coordinated their outfits, Riley wore his Vanderbilt shirt and Bucky wore his Columbia one on top of plain, athletic shorts.

Lying on their backs, they stared at the pale moon, almost full, with only a sliver missing. _Was that waxing or waning?_ Bucky tried to remember his eighth-grade science class but kept drawing blanks. He gave up his quest for recalling knowledge that would only be beneficial for his hopeful appearance on _Jeopardy!_ , and he listened to the whirring hiss of the cicadas, instead. The quiet sounds of nature were a complete contrast to his usual symphony of New York noise – the slow introduction of pedestrians shouting followed by the waltz of cars honking before ending with the triumphant fanfare of various sirens, police and fire and ambulances calling out in a canon. Somehow, the soft white noise made him more restless.

Interrupting the screeching bugs, Riley turned to him with a smirk and a distraction. “Can I show you something?” he whispered.

“Sure,” Bucky whispered back with a shrug.

Riley lifted his side of the covers, and Bucky followed his movements, lifting his side as well. Reaching beneath the waistband of his shorts to pull up the waistband of his underwear, Riley flashed him just a peek of white. “Am I disgusting or what?”

Stifling his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand, Bucky used his other hand to show him a glimpse of his own – or rather, _Steve’s_ – white briefs. “Not at all.”

Riley allowed his laughter to actually sound, and all of the other Islanders who were inside in the bedroom could probably hear his cackle. When he settled down and they returned to their original positions with their hands back over the comforter, Riley looked back up fondly at the night sky. “I feel like this is the closest I’ve been with him since our first night in the Hideaway. Obviously, we’ve been able to do little things, quiet, under the covers, late at night, but nothin’ like that first night alone.”

Bucky didn’t realize that his face had been contorting itself, twisting into a bitter expression to represent the bitter taste in his mouth. The thought of two people in the room where he was sleeping, in the bed _next_ to him, were doing ‘little things,’ brought back unpleasant memories of his first college roommate, until Riley pointed out his face with a chuckle. “Oh, c’mon now. Don’t pretend that you and Steve aren’t two hot-blooded, young gentlemen with sex drives the size of Texas.”

Biting his lip, Bucky paused. “I’m not sure how I feel about that analogy, and I’m not sure how I feel about what you’re implying, either.”

“What?” Riley asked. “There’s no way you’re telling me that you two haven’t hooked up yet.”

Bucky shook his head, and Riley gasped. “ _How_?”

“No good opportunity, I guess,” Bucky said with a shrug. _Being separated for a week also didn’t help much._

“Do you want to? Take it to that level, I mean?”

Bucky thought back to the first time that he met Steve. Stepping into that bungalow, hoping to walk out of it with a plan for getting out of the show early, Bucky was greeted with the sight of one of the most handsome men in the entire world. Seeing him as he waited at a table in front of a candlelit dinner, cleaned up and dressed up in tight-fitting semi-formal, backlit by a golden halo glow, had been nothing short of a religious experience. Bucky thought of seeing him shirtless from across the pool, working out, dripping with sweat, while Bucky placed an apple to his mouth, licking its red skin and wishing that it was Steve’s body. Bucky thought of the night before, finally back together and in their own bed, when heated, open-mouth kisses grew hungry, as hands wandered lower and lower, brushing over exactly what they wanted from each other, _needed_ from each other.

“Yeah,” Bucky said after clearing his throat. “I think we’re definitely interested in taking it to that level.”

With a grin, Riley allowed him more space with his thoughts to cool himself down before breaking the comfortable silence again, “Do you think this is what Sam and Steve are doing right now?”

Bucky scoffed. “Comparing their underwear and sex lives beneath the sheets of a daybed? I hope not.”

“Really? I think that’d be kinda hot.”

Bucky lightly smacked him on the arm but still curled up on his side to face him, as they sunk deeper into the firm mattress. In the space between them, they clasped their hands together, interlacing their fingers, apparently both missing the tactile comfort of a partner. Finding that familiarity in the platonic embraces, Bucky brushed his thumb softly back and forth over Riley’s palm. Or was it his own? Their hands were so tangled that looking down at them, almost upside-down, it was no longer obvious whose fingers belonged to whom. Like they were one being.

Bucky thought there was something beautiful about that concept, but no matter how much he appreciated Riley for being with him at the time, he still wished it was Steve’s hands that he was clutching, morphing into that singular body.

The image of melting into Steve until they occupied one body, one space, one soul, lulled him into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're also the type of person that likes to spend an hour scrolling through designer fragrance options on Sephora's website that you will never buy, Sam's cologne is Versace - Eros, and Steve's cologne is Tom Ford - Santal Blush. You're welcome 😉
> 
> A slightly more laidback chapter (I'm still recovering from the angst too! 😅) with some introductions, hint-hints of what's to come in the future, and plenty of platonic cuddles. 
> 
> Of course, I'd love to know your thoughts, so feel free to leave a comment! Thanks so much for everyone who has been following along, and if you're new here (or a time-traveler reading from the future - woah!), WELCOME! 😊
> 
> Next time on Love Island...Let's get to know our new Islanders a bit better with a challenge, shall we? 😎


	33. Chapter 33

**Episode 33**

The next day, Bucky was enjoying isolating himself from the others with Riley when a scream interrupted their conversation. “I got a text!”

“God, they still do that here?” Bucky grumbled, as they walked over to where the others were gathered around the pool on the bean-bag chairs.

[ _Of course, Bucky! And, as always, we appreciate your unwavering enthusiasm. Shall we see what it says?_ ]

“Casa Amor,” Peter Q. announced to the whole group, “today, you will be competing in a challenge against the main villa in the Head-to-Head Race! #Make-or-Break #Hurry-Scurry”

[ _Alright, here’s how this is gonna work. Both villas are playing this game at the exact same time. Each round, one Islander from each villa will receive the same text with instructions for a task to complete. The first Islander to complete the task will earn a point for their villa. At the end of the game, the villa with the most points will win a party. Now, Bucky, how excited are you?!_ ]

Bucky rolled his eyes with a sigh.

Staying put right where they were, they reorganized the bean-bags into a circle, making room for Bucky and Riley to sit on the turf. With a strong start, setting the tone of the game, Scott received the first text: “First Islander to drink out of someone’s bellybutton wins a point.”

Without hesitation, Scott leaned back and poured the water from his plastic bottle over his stomach. Hope kneeled beside him, and through a laugh, she tentatively sucked it, taking a body-shot of tap water. A few seconds later, Scott read the text that, “Casa Amor won the point.”

The others clapped and cheered for them, as Scott pulled Hope in for a side-hug, but Bucky couldn’t help when Wanda appeared in his mind, wondering how she would feel about that. Realizing that he truly knew nothing about the serious nature of their relationship, Bucky brushed those worries to the side. Based on the introductions the previous day, it seemed that Bucky and Riley were the only two committed to their partners, while the others were open to exploring their options. Which was perfectly fine.

Angie received the next prompt, which she read out loud, “The oldest Islander must kiss the youngest Islander for five seconds.”

At twenty-nine, Bucky assumed that he was the oldest. Leaning forward, despite having no interest in completing the task, he looked around the group, unsure if anyone could beat him. Before he could half-committedly suggest himself, Riley cleared his throat. “I know I’m the oldest, but I’m not doing that. Sorry.”

While the others figured out who was the youngest, who turned out to be Nebula at twenty-four, Bucky raised an eyebrow at Riley. “You’re older than twenty-nine?”

Riley scoffed. “Honey, I’m thirty-one.”

Giving him a blatant once-over, Bucky shook his head in disbelief. “The fuck you are _not_ thirty-one.”

Angie’s phone beeped again to tell them that, “The main villa won the point.”

“Who’s the oldest in the main villa?” Stephen asked.

Riley visibly tightened his jaw. “I mean, aside from the new people, Sam’s twenty-nine.”

“Maria’s thirty,” Carol offered with soft, comforting smile that made Riley release the breath that he was holding in his chest.

The next instructions forced two Islanders with names that started with the same letter to kiss for five seconds. Frantically, they looked around the circle, trying to match their letters. Bucky couldn’t find another B, and there was no other R for Riley. Pointing at the two, Val shouted out, “Peggy and Peter! Peggy and Peter!”

Peggy slightly hesitated as she rose from her seat to meet him in the center of the circle, where he held her face while they kissed. Around them, the Islanders counted down, “Five…four…three…” and instead of reaching Happy New Year at “one,” they received the text that, “Casa Amor won the point.”

While they all applauded Peggy, who was blushing, and Peter, who was grinning, Riley nudged Bucky with his elbow. “Sam and Steve.”

With a silent gasp that quickly turned into a laugh, Bucky had to admit that he didn’t exactly hate that mental image, remembering the discussion that he had had with Riley the night before.

Bucky received the next text and snorted before reading it out to the rest of the group, “All Islanders must get into a sex position with someone else.”

Giving it little thought, Bucky rolled over, pushing Riley down on the ground and straddling his hips. As the others clambered to choose a partner and get into a position, Riley giggled. “Oh, you like to be on top?”

Bucky smirked. “Wouldn’t _you_ like to know.”

Climbing off to check the chime on his phone and sparing his eyes from looking at the others, Bucky gladly reported, “Casa Amor won the point.”

“One Islander must cover someone else in twenty lipstick kisses,” T’Challa read from his phone next, and immediately, everyone focused their attention on Peggy, whose lips were, of course, painted with red lipstick.

She asked for Angie’s permission before planting _at_ _least_ twenty kisses across her stomach and chest, up her neck, and over her face. Peggy started to count between her kisses but lost count about halfway through, as Angie flinched away with laughter, crying out that it tickled. When they pulled apart, the bright red lip prints were the perfect complement to her lime green bikini. Peggy pressed an extra kiss to Angie’s cheek when they were told that, “Casa Amor won the point.”

Riley’s phone chimed next, and he rolled his eyes at the prompt. “The tallest Islander must kiss the shortest Islander for five seconds, and I am _still_ not doing that.”

At 6’3” without the usual heels, stretching out his never-ending legs, Riley was obviously the tallest. The others respected his decision to not participate but still tried to determine who was shortest, having Val and Nebula stand back-to-back. Watching them switch out Carol for Val, Bucky shook his head. “The producers really want to see you kiss someone who’s not Sam, huh?”

“They sure do, which is why they’re–” Riley paused to glance at a camera and seemingly changed his answer, “– _lovely_ people who just deserve the utmost respect.”

Despite losing the point to the main villa, their position on the turf put them in the perfect spot to clutch the win on the last prompt: “Every Islander must jump into the pool.”

They tossed their mic’s to the side and hopped into the water, just a few steps away. Splashing each other as they laughed and cheered, they were informed that they had won the party, beating the main villa.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Frankly, Bucky and Riley didn’t much care about the party. As opposed to the typical production in their dressing room, dueling with designer labels, taking copious amounts of selfies, they threw on t-shirts and sweatpants, like they were getting ready for bed, instead. Was standing around the kitchenette with sparklers and champagne while music blared in the background really a party, though?

[ _Why, of course, it is, Bucky!_ ]

Bucky and Riley accepted their pink, plastic champagne flutes and promptly made their exit, returning to the daybed where they had spent the night together. “So, who do you think is coming home with us?” Riley asked, as he rested onto his side, propping his head up with his elbow.

Mirroring his position, Bucky looked past him to the others in the kitchenette. “I have a feeling Peggy’s taking back Angie, which will be good.”

Ever since the game, Peggy hardly looked anywhere except for Angie, who didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Riley nodded in agreement. “I’d bet Scott’s bringing back Hope too.”

Scott was currently working Hope over with his best material, making her laugh where they sat alone with their feet dangling in the pool. “Yeah,” Bucky said. “Poor Wanda.”

“Can’t really blame him for wanting to get to know her, though. Do you know who Hope is?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“She’s Janet’s daughter.”

“What?” Bucky blatantly stared from across the pool, realizing the similar features in her eyes and nose. Maybe even her jawline could be seen from her mother. “That seems like a major conflict of interest. How is that possible?”

Riley shrugged and nudged his elbow with a smirk. “I don’t know. Ask your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my–” Bucky started before forfeiting the rest of his objection.

Clinking his ‘glass’ against his own, Riley gave him a knowing look in his incomprehensible hazel eyes, but instead of dwelling on that unfinished thought, he returned to the original topic of conversation. “T’Challa seems like a sweetie.”

From their brief introductions and pleasantries, Bucky nodded, and maybe the slight buzz from the bubbly was starting to catch up to him when he said, “Not too difficult to look at, either.”

Raising a hand to his chest, Riley gave an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, you naughty boy, you.” He lightly slapped Bucky on the arm before breaking into a wide grin. “You’re definitely not wrong, though. He looks like he could be a prince or something.”

“Oh, yes. I could see him with someone powerful. Maybe Val?”

“Mm, maybe. I feel like she’s staying faithful to Thor, which I’m not totally sure is a good idea for her.”

Bucky couldn’t disagree. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be too surprised to find out that he’s getting to know other people. What do you think about the others in the main villa?”

Sensing his subtle nervousness, the start to his worries, Riley shook his head. “You have nothing to stress over, dear. I honestly think that you and I are the only two in couples that are completely safe.”

As much as that was a comforting suggestion from the only person of the group in a defined, committed relationship, Bucky still had that nagging feeling in the back of his mind. “I know you’re right, but I’d just love to know what’s going on back there.”

[ _Well, isn’t that convenient! You should be getting just a little taste of what’s going on back at the main villa right about…now!_ ]

Interrupting the party, every Islander’s phone chimed in unison, receiving a text with an attached video, captioned, _While The Cats Are Away…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooo...Are y'all ready for the (manipulated) truth?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the challenge! I always think this is a fun one to watch at Casa Amor, since it always sets up the wildest couples in the wildest scenarios - so fun to imagine the MCU characters that way! 😅 And, as always, Bucky and Riley are hanging on the outskirts, totally uninterested in participating - gotta love 'em!
> 
> Thanks again so much to everyone commenting; those notifications truly brighten my day! And feel free to chat with me on Tumblr too @buckyandthejets (Yesterday, I dropped a fun sneak peek of a couple lines that come up WAY in the future if you're dying to be in on a secret 😉)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...It's time to find out what the Main Villa is up to and how they handled that challenge! 😎


	34. Chapter 34

**Episode 34**

_…The Mice Will Play_ , really? _That_ was the level of ingenuity that the producers achieved a month into filming the show? Comparing their contestants to house pets and rodents?

_Whatever_ , Bucky rolled his eyes and tilted his phone to the side, pressing play at the same time as Riley. The video started with the morning that the six left the main villa from the perspective of the cameras in the corners of the bedroom, looking down on the five remaining Islanders alone in their beds, waking up one by one.

Frowning at the screen, it broke Bucky’s heart to see Steve hold the covers as tightly as he imagined himself holding Bucky, and it shattered Bucky’s heart completely to see Steve’s eyes slowly flutter open before widening in shock and almost panic, reaching over to find the space next to him empty. Steve lifted his head before catching Sam’s eye, who was also confusedly looking around, and sat up fully. Waking up on their own, Wanda and Maria soon joined them in waiting for Thor’s snoring to stop. To expedite that process, Sam threw a pillow at him, and Thor woke up with a grunt.

He looked to his left, to his right, taking in the sight of the half-occupied beds and sitting up with a chuckle. “Oh, friends, I think something fishy is going down today.”

The video abruptly switched to the introductions of the new Islanders, walking in a straight line along the cobblestone pathway, edited in the same way that would presumably be shown on TV. With low bass thumping in the background, the cameras panned up from tanned and toned bare legs to pretty, eager faces. In the middle, the camera zoomed in on a young brunette woman giving off girl-next-door vibes that made Bucky clench his teeth together, as seeing long, brown hair and nice thighs set off alarm bells in his ears. The focal point then moved to a handsome dark-haired man with glasses before cutting to the new group meeting the remaining Islanders of the main villa, as they exchanged hugs and hello’s.

The rest of the video flashed by in brief clips, only lasting one to three seconds, jumping between moments from the head-to-head game and private conversations. Bucky squinted to catch a glimpse of Steve. As expected, he saw Thor kissing the pretty brunette during the challenge, and afterward, slightly more surprising, Maria kissed the man with glasses for a different prompt. Tearing his gaze away from his phone just for a moment, Bucky looked up to see Val and Carol huddling together as they watched the video on one phone, unable to decipher their reactions.

A hand tightly gripping his arm brought his attention back to his own phone, and he gasped at the sight of Sam and Steve locking lips, while the others cheered around them. Unlike watching Steve kiss Peggy, Bucky felt no jealousy. The kiss was awkwardly stiff and forced, lacking any true romance or passion, as they crashed their mouths against each other’s. It was frantic and nearly violent, only give and zero take, as if they were trying to get it over with as quickly as possible. Shaking his head in disapproval, Bucky could only laugh, while Riley squealed and shrieked beside him in hysterics.

Putting an immediate end to the laughter, the next clip silenced them.

Instead of sharing a wild and uncomfortable kiss, Sam and Steve were sitting beside each other around the fire pit, lounging back in their sunglasses. “She’s hot,” Steve said, apropos of nothing, no lead-up, no conclusion. Immediately, Bucky knew to be skeptical of the editor clearly taking this quote out of context, but his stomach still turned when hearing those words, a natural response.

Riley’s grasp on his arm tightened at the next clip. “She’s crazy hot,” Sam said. “That’s the type of person you recouple with.”

The last few clips didn’t matter, as the damage had already been done, and Riley’s phone slipped out of his hand while the other came up to cover his mouth. Bucky’s instincts told him to comfort him, bringing a hand up to his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky whispered. “It’s edited and completely out of context, Riley. They want this reaction from you. They’re doing this to mess with our heads and second-guess ourselves. Don’t give them that satisfaction.”

Riley blinked more frequently than normal, as Bucky watched them turn faintly pink. His eyebrows were pulled painfully together, and he looked utterly distraught. At a loss for words, he sat in silent disbelief, his usual strong exterior about ready to collapse in on itself. The pain that he showed was palpable, spreading to Bucky who felt a sharp, jabbing pain in his heart. Finally, Riley dropped the hand from his mouth, and Bucky could see his lip tremble as he tried so desperately not to cry.

“I know,” he said quietly, weakly. “I know it’s not what he means, but just the thought of him even remotely considering someone else is exactly what I was afraid of when coming here.”

Lightly rubbing his hand across Riley’s shoulder, Bucky nodded and allowed him to continue, as the truth poured out of him. “I didn’t choose this life for myself. I never meant to become a professional model and influencer and all that bullshit. I went to college, got my bachelor’s and went back to get my master’s. I studied _marketing_ , I had a real life and a real job, workin’ in advertising, designing the ads, not starring in them.”

_Huh_. Bucky never would have guessed that – his frankly elitist assumptions that a model would have that level of education. It was rude and wrong of him and based on his own selfish pride of his educational feats, built on notions engrained on him as a child that a degree was the only way to guarantee success. It was a viewpoint that needed to change, personally _and_ societally.

Riley still talking brought Bucky’s attention back to him. “I accidentally fell into the fame. I never asked for it and never wanted it, but ever since the show, my life has been totally different. I can’t go outside without being stopped, and I constantly have to watch out for what I do and say, because someone’s always watching. I’ve been so terrified to date, because if they’re not just with me for the fame, then who could possibly want that in their life? What if Sam realized that and found someone else? What if he realized that he doesn’t want to date someone like me and would rather have someone with a normal job?”

“What?” Bucky shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. He’s your boyfriend. He’s not just going to leave you and definitely not for your _job_ , of all reasons.”

“He wouldn’t be the first,” Riley said so casually that Bucky could feel his pain once again.

Riley sighed and started again, “I was engaged before this, Bucky. We worked together, had this cute little office romance, kissing under the mistletoe at the holiday party and stuff like that. We lived together and knew each other’s families. My parents loved him, always insistin’ that he came over for Sunday dinners, and yeah, I loved him too. We were starting to get our wedding plans in order when I auditioned for the show – _Top Model_ , that is. I just sent in an application on a whim. Never in a hundred years did I think that the producers would pick me, never in a million years did I think that I would make it through all the rounds of auditions, and never in a _billion_ years did I think that I would win. I’ve always loved fashion and had plenty of advertising experience, but I never actually modeled before the show. _Not_ _once_ , but I guess that’s sort of the point – amateurs becoming professionals, learning all the tricks of the trade there.

“By the end of it, my life would never be the same, whether I wanted it to be or not. I now had a modeling contract, and I was the face of an entire cosmetics campaign. I had spreads in multiple magazines with countless calls, asking for me to be on many more. I was traveling the world for runways and shoots, and it was everything that I could have ever dreamed of my life being. I was so ready to start this next part of my life, but I was still scared. As many voices that were out there showering me with compliments, there were just as many calling me a freak, and I took that to heart. I needed my boyfriend so, _so_ badly to remind me that it would all be okay.”

At that point in the story, Riley paused, shaking and looking up at the sky to keep the tears from falling, and Bucky took the opportunity to slowly rub circles onto his shoulder. “It’s okay,” Bucky said. “Take your time.”

Riley nodded and blew out a quick breath of air. “The last week of the show was filmed in Paris, so when it was done, all the flight back over, I couldn’t wait to see him when I got home. I walked in through the front door, called out his name, and he wasn’t there. I didn’t think that was too strange, figurin’ he was staying with family or friends while I was gone. But then I got upstairs, walked into our bedroom, and I realized that all of his stuff was gone. Everything. _All_ of his clothes from the closet, his little knickknacks on our dressers, even his damn reading glasses on the nightstand.”

Bucky couldn’t even imagine that scene. He had never been in a relationship where they moved in together, but the thought of trusting someone so deeply to let them into your home, only for them to abandon you when you needed them most? That must have been horrific, and he felt so terribly sorry for Riley for having to relive it, just to tell him.

But before Bucky could tell him that he didn’t need to continue, Riley did anyway. “When I finally got a hold of him, he told me that he couldn’t be with me anymore. That things were different now. That _I_ was different now. He said that when he watched the show, he didn’t recognize me anymore, and he couldn’t spend the rest of his life with a stranger.”

Feeling tears start to form in his own eyes, Bucky couldn’t blame Riley for starting to cry, unable to hold it in any longer. Bucky moved his arm to wrap around Riley’s back, pulling him against his side, as he whispered apologies.

“It hurt so bad, Bucky,” Riley sobbed. “But I didn’t even have time to get over him. I only had a couple weeks to quit my job and get ready to start my life as a model. And it was easy – _real_ easy – to get lost in the new routines and this hectic new lifestyle, constantly traveling and adjusting to different places and cultures. I loved it, but I completely shut down the personal side of my life. I didn’t want to make friends, and I definitely didn’t want to date. Then, six months in, I realized how awful I felt. The money and clothes and press was all great, but I needed people in my life. When my manager asked if I’d be interested in doing Love Island, I figured, ‘Fuck it.’ If there was one place where I could find love it’d be there, right?”

Riley wiped his eyes and took a breath to steady himself, even as tears continued to stream down his cheeks. “And I thought I found it, too. I thought I finally found the person who understands me and likes me for _me_. Someone who doesn’t think I have to change anything about myself. All my life, I’ve been hearing from people, ‘Riley, you’re too weird.’ ‘Riley, you’re not pretty enough.’ ‘Riley, you’re too old.’ For as long as I can remember, it was me having to reassure myself, but just _once_ , I wanted one person to tell me, ‘No, Riley, you _are_ enough.’

“And that’s exactly what Sam did from the moment that he met me. He doesn’t think that I’m weird for the way I dress or for my taste in music or for listening to D&D podcasts. He calls me beautiful, because he means it, not to flatter me or try to use me for my fame. He doesn’t think that it was a mistake to abandon my career for something that I feel so passionately about. He thinks I’m exactly who I need to be and wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about me.”

Having watched the two interact for a month, Bucky knew that all of those things were true, which is why it wasn’t too surprising to hear Riley say next, “I think I love him.”

As Riley reiterated his fears of losing Sam, Bucky listened patiently, occasionally offering reaffirming words, while stroking his hair, running his fingers soothingly down the blonde locks. And as they lay beside each other, settling in for the night, after Riley’s tears subsided and he slept uneasily, Bucky stared at the night sky, the bright moon that was now full. Despite having never been a religious or spiritual man, he prayed to every god that would listen, asking for Sam Wilson to feel the same way about Riley Jones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it still angst if it's someone else's angst? Oops, probably 😅
> 
> When I first started this journey, I really loved the direction that Riley's character was going and was very interested in exploring him deeper, fleshing him out to a point where he was no longer a fantastical daydream but a real, flesh-and-blood person with hopes and a history. I thought this chapter was the perfect opportunity to share his background, listening to him tell his story, himself, as he opened his heart up to Bucky, away from everyone else. Seeing so many of you fall for this character as well, I truly hope you enjoyed learning more about him - even if his story in this chapter may be the most heartbreaking of the whole 60 chapters. 😊
> 
> (I said Angst Week is over, and I DO mean that, so take from that what you will 😉)
> 
> This was obviously a very emotionally-charged chapter, so please feel free to share you thoughts and feelings in the comments. And come hang out on Tumblr too @ buckyandthejets 😊
> 
> 🎧 "Wanted U" - Joji 
> 
> (TW: Self-Harm; Blood; Flashing Lights if you're watching the video)
> 
> (I haven't watched this music video in quite some time and completely forgot about some of the images that briefly appear on screen. If these trigger warnings are a concern of yours, perhaps skip watching the music if you tend to consume music in that way. These themes are not present in the song itself, but in no way do I want to put someone in an unsafe place)
> 
> (This is a gorgeous, haunting song from one of my favorite indie/R&B artists. It really captures Riley's history, while considering his future with Sam, almost plagued with worry and doubt. This darker, melancholy song is truly the perfect complement to the one that we'll listen to tomorrow - I promise! And the video gives a nod to classic rock, which is so perfectly on brand for Riley!)
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."I just wanted to let you guys know that we're going back to the main villa today" 🏝


	35. Chapter 35

**Episode 35**

“Uh, hi, Bucky.”

Bucky looked up to see intern Peter watching him prepare his coffee. Stirring in a copious amount of sugar that he knew Steve would laugh at, Bucky acknowledged him with a quick nod, sensing the tension between them through Peter’s hesitation. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Um, right, so,” Peter started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the past few days. I know they weren’t easy on you – or Riley.”

With a light chuckle, Bucky shook his head. “Oh, please, you have nothing to apologize for. _We’re_ the ones who should be apologizing to you.”

“What? No way, man! That was awesome!” Bucky raised a confused eyebrow, and Peter explained further. “It was so cool. I got to tell all my friends back home that Riley Jones and Bucky Barnes _Karen’ed_ me. You know? You guys asked to speak to my manager? They were so jealous! They wished they could’ve been there.”

“Right,” Bucky said, not entirely sure he understood how that was a good thing but not willing to question it any longer.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that we’re going back to the main villa today. I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but I figured, hey, if that makes Riley feel a little better, that’s more important, right?”

Bucky stared down at the mug of green tea steeping beside his own mug, preparing it for Riley, who was still curled up on the daybed. “That’s good to know. Thanks, kid.” As Peter turned to walk away, Bucky called after him before he got too far. “You know, you’ve got too big a heart to be doing this reality TV thing.”

Peter laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I feel that. This has been a really amazing experience and will look super good on my resume, but I think I’m gonna stick to scripted after this.”

Feeling a newfound sense of comfort or maybe reassurance, Bucky carried the two mugs back over to the daybed where he found Riley rewatching the video. “You really need to stop watching that,” Bucky said as he sat beside him.

“I know,” Riley said, pressing play again.

Bucky handed him his tea and took a sip of his coffee before telling him the (ideally) good news. “We’re going back today.”

With a sniffle, Riley lifted his head. “Really?”

“Yup.”

Bucky watched the color drain from Riley’s face, as he realized, “That means the recoupling is tonight.”

“And it’ll be fine,” Bucky repeated for the umpteenth time, but ever patient, he slipped his arm behind Riley’s back, holding him close.

“I know,” Riley repeated, as unconvinced as the night prior.

“Listen, even if it isn’t fine – worst-case scenario – and Sam chooses someone else,” Bucky said and felt Riley suck in a shallow breath, holding it in his chest. “Even if that happens, you’ll be okay. He obviously wasn’t meant for you. He doesn’t _deserve_ you, and you’ll be alright. You’re so strong, Riley. You’ll move on, and you’ll be the better person.”

Not meeting his eyes, Riley nodded. “I know. I just don’t want that to happen.”

This time, Bucky was the one to say, “I know.”

He continued to keep him pressed against his side, offering his support in whatever way he possibly could and asking the gods again to prevent that worst-case scenario from happening.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Bucky remained at Riley’s side when they finally made it back to their dressing room in the main villa. The producers instructed them to stay in the house, keeping them isolated from the Islanders of the main villa, who were waiting outside on the deck until the start of the ceremony. One at a time, they would be introduced and would walk down the ivy-lined pathway. In doing so, they revealed whether they had chosen to stay with their original partner, walking alone, or recoupled with someone else, who would be walking beside them. They would then greet their original partner, standing at the fire pit, either alone or beside someone new.

“Either way,” Bucky said, as he faced Riley, “I got your back.”

Appreciatively, Riley pressed their foreheads together with a nod and a genuine, “Thank you.”

Dum Dum stepped into the room, seemingly avoiding Bucky and Riley on purpose. “Alright, Peggy, you’ll start us off.”

She gladly exited the room with Angie, of course, behind her, looking stunning in their matching red dresses in different styles. The only other new Islander from Casa Amor was Hope, since Carol and Val chose to remain in their original couples.

Turning back to his mirror, Bucky adjusted the collar of his dress shirt. The black one with the decorated collar had been tempting, but assuming that three times would be deemed as too many for one season of the show, he chose a deep, royal-purple one, instead, that went well with his gray pants – the ones that hugged his hips _just_ right.

To his left, Riley fidgeted with the belt around the waist of his orange jumpsuit. Unlike Bucky who left his hair down, adding in a few extra curls, Riley pulled his back tight into a high, ballet bun. It brought the attention to his face – the freckles across his cheeks and his gorgeous eyes. As always, he looked fantastic, but the evident nervousness, shifting his gaze around and constantly straightening something on his outfit, humbled the usual confidence and hurt Bucky’s heart. He wanted nothing more than to find the magic words that would allow Riley to relax but knew that the only thing that would make that happen was seeing Sam alone. Which would hopefully happen soon.

Interrupting his thoughts, Dum Dum popped his head in the doorway. “Bucky?”

Bucky nodded and gave Riley one final, lingering hug, whispering in his ear, “Everything’ll be okay.”

Riley responded by squeezing his shoulders as they pulled away.

As he followed the producer down the brightly-colored staircase, Bucky realized that throughout all the time he had spent assuring Riley that he had nothing to be afraid of, he had hardly thought of Steve. He had worried so much over someone else’s relationship that he hadn’t even thought of his own. _Was that a good thing?_

He wasn’t entirely sure, but when he stepped outside, feeling the cool air of the evening breeze hit his face, the nerves set in. The logical side of his brain reminded him that there was a very real possibility that Steve had chosen someone else. This was a TV show, practically a game, and even with the ‘exclusive’ label, there was no governing law that insisted that Steve remained loyal to their partnership. The romantic side of his brain, however, refused to believe that Steve would jeopardize their relationship. After spending a week apart from each other, coupled with the woman of his dreams, Steve had chosen _him_. Call him cocky, but Bucky doubted that anyone else could have competed with that connection.

Before rounding the final corner, Bucky steadied himself with a deep breath. This was another new start: either the final, _final_ end to whatever they had or the next stage of their relationship. And, if he was going to listen to the advice that he had been repeating for nearly twenty-four hours, he needed to remind himself that regardless of the outcome, it would be okay.

He took a brave step forward, holding his breath. Standing between him and the fire pit, Janet caught his eye first, looking radiant in a rose-gold gown. Behind her, he glanced at familiar faces with a few new ones interspersed throughout. Peggy and Angie sat on one end with Thor and the new brunette girl beside them. Next to the new girl was Wanda, then the man with glasses from the video, and Maria. On the other end of the arch was Sam, sitting alone, by himself, waiting for Riley. _Thank you_ , Bucky wanted to say to the sky, but a quick head-count reminded him that Steve was the only other Islander left unaccounted for, meaning that he was the one standing in the center.

Alone.

Bucky let out a sigh of relief, releasing his breath. He welcomed those damn butterflies as they swirled around his stomach, and a stupid smile appeared on his face. Hurrying down the three levels of stairs, the wood creaked beneath him as he rushed down, skipping every other step. He speed-walked past the pool, past the deck chairs where he no longer needed to sit with his lonesome thoughts. By that point, he was practically running, probably looking like a maniac, before leaping into Steve’s arms.

With no trouble supporting him, Steve laughed and held him close for one of the best hugs of his life. Through the crisp, white button-down, Bucky could feel the firm muscles of his back, as his hands found their home against his shoulder blades, pressing their chests flush together. Steve rested one hand against the small of Bucky’s back and brought the other into his hair. Laying his head against his shoulder, Bucky breathed in the warm, comforting spice of Steve’s cologne, bringing back the memories of holding it to his face when he first opened the suitcase and when packing it away that afternoon. (It also made him grin at the more shameful memory from the early morning, before anyone else was awake and able to walk in on him, pressing the t-shirt to his mouth to muffle the sounds he made in the shower.)

“I missed you,” Steve whispered, breath ghosting along the shell of his ear, making him blush at the thought that he unknowingly interrupted.

“I missed you too,” Bucky said back, and it was a very, _very_ honest truth.

Bucky wished that they could have held each other like this for the rest of the night, but Steve stepped away from him with a sigh, as there was always some sort of proper conduct that needed to be fulfilled. “Welcome back, Bucky,” Janet said, and Bucky greeted her with a shy smile. “As you can see, Steve made the decision to not recouple with any of the new Islanders. Since you made the same decision to not recouple, you and Steve will still be coupled together.”

Accepting the others’ applause, Steve pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as they sat down together. Bucky leaned into his embrace as Steve laid an arm around the back of his head, ready to watch the rest of the show.

“Wanda,” Janet continued, moving on to the next Islander. Bucky expected her to stand alongside the man with glasses, but he remained seated and Wanda stood on her own. “You made the decision to not recouple with anyone else. It’s time to find out if Scott chose to remain coupled with you or recouple with a new Islander from Casa Amor.”

Bucky felt his heart drop but kept his face stoic as he put together the implications. Scott would walk in with Hope, leaving Wanda single. If Wanda didn’t recouple with the man in glasses, then _Maria_ must have recoupled with him, leaving Carol single, and Thor recoupling with the brunette girl-next-door left Val single.

Well, _shit_.

In that order, Bucky watched it unfold. With Hope holding onto his elbow, Scott stood beside Janet with an apologetic, heartbroken expression as he faced Wanda. Janet read from her cards without hesitation, “Scott, you made the decision to recouple with Hope.” As the new Islanders gaped in awe, apparently recognizing the model’s daughter immediately, Janet had to address the obvious relation. “My beautiful daughter.”

Wanda accepted the news that she would be single with grace and a pained smile.

“Damn,” Steve whispered, and Bucky nodded, having no chance to warn him that this would only get worse.

Carol descended the stairs next, freezing at the bottom when she saw Maria standing beside the man. “Carol,” Janet said with a sigh when she joined them at the fire pit. “You made the decision to not recouple with anyone at Casa Amor. As you can see, Maria decided to recouple with new Islander Bruce. This means that you will now be single in the villa.”

Nodding, Carol took her seat, hesitantly next to Maria and Bruce.

Repeating the process, amplifying the tension between the group, Val joined them next. Her excited grin dropped as soon as she stood with Janet, seeing Thor standing beside someone else with his gaze sheepishly on the ground. “Val, you made the decision to not recouple with anyone at Casa Amor. As you can see, Thor decided to recouple with new Islander Jane. This means that you will now be single in the villa.”

Val cleared her throat but didn’t reply as she joined the others around the fire pit between Angie and Thor.

With Val in her place and the awkwardness reaching a new level of discomfort, that left one couple to be reunited. Sam rose from his seat, grinning at Janet and keeping his arms behind his back. “Sam, you made the decision to not recouple with anyone else. It’s time to find out if Riley chose to remain coupled with you or recouple with a new Islander from Casa Amor.”

Happily, Bucky squeezed Steve’s knee, smiling but giving him no indication of Riley’s decision, since they would all see in a few moments. Sam shifted his weight between his feet while they waited, a little longer than the previous Islanders. Bucky assumed that maybe the producers were holding him back to intentionally build the anticipation, or maybe Riley had started crying again and needed extra time to compose himself. Regardless of the reason, the Islanders first caught a glimpse of Riley’s toes, painted hot pink and peeking out from his toeless, tan suede ankle boots. Then came his long legs, and finally, Riley appeared in full view.

In the same instant that he locked eyes on Sam, realizing that he was standing alone, Riley brought his hands up to his heart, clasping them together in shock. Almost bewildered, he slowly walked down the stairs, taking his time as if trying not to fall, which they had _never_ seen before from him. When he crossed over and reached Janet, he surprised them all by collapsing to the ground, dropping into a squat and covering his face with his hands. Bucky recognized the shaking of his shoulders as him crying, while the others gasped, looking on in sympathy.

Sam couldn’t simply watch.

Breaking from the rigid restrictions that separated them until a prompt was read out loud, Sam circled the fire pit and took a knee beside Riley without hesitation. As Bucky had done the night before, Sam rubbed his back, whispering in his ear that he was okay, that everything was okay. Bucky wiped tears away from his own face, and Steve did the same for him, running his fingers over his shoulder in soothing circles.

Eventually, Sam coaxed Riley to stand again, and Riley clutched onto his arm for support. With his other hand, Riley fanned his face, drying the tears that poured down his cheeks, dripping down his chin. Sam’s pale-blue dress shirt sported a few darkened spots from Riley’s tears, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest. All that appeared to matter to him was Riley back beside him.

“Riley,” Janet said with a disbelieving but gentle laugh, shaking her head. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy?”

Sniffling, Riley nodded. “No, I know. I _am_ happy.” He coughed, clearing his throat, as more tears flooded out of his eyes, contradicting his words. “I was just so scared after seein’ that video. I got it in my head that you found someone else and wanted to be with her. I thought it was over.”

Sam looked at him with tender longing, nearing tears himself. “No, angel, I’ve been waiting for you this whole time. No one could ever come _close_ to you. These few days have been miserable. I’ve felt so lost without you. I don’t know what to do with myself without you.”

Watching him nod along, Bucky knew through first-hand experience that Riley felt the exact same way. Steve rested his hand on top of Bucky’s, giving it a soft squeeze, and Bucky realized that a tear had fallen down his cheek. Steve swiped it away with the pad of his thumb before even Bucky could.

“So, how would you say this separation impacted your relationship?” Janet asked, a clinical question asked with sincerity.

Sam let out a bitter laugh. “It’s been a nightmare. I’ve hated every minute of it, and I spent every second of it thinking about him and hoping that he’s alright. But it also made me realize how important he is to me, reminding me of every single reason why I asked him to be my boyfriend. It made me realize that these feelings I have for him aren’t just some schoolboy crush. This is genuine, and this is real. This is – this is love. And I don’t want to be afraid of saying that anymore.”

Riley turned to him, blinking but wide-eyed as he processed what he was starting to say. “Sammie?”

“I love you, Riley,” Sam said, taking his hands in his own, ignoring the cameras and everyone else around them. “I love you, and I never want to be separated from you like that ever again, worrying about never having a chance to tell you that.”

Fresh tears sprung in Riley’s eyes, as he stared down at Sam like he was the most precious and most incredible thing he had ever seen. Crying openly, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms Sam’s waist, burying his face in his neck. “I love you too,” he sobbed. “I love you so much. I’ve never felt this way before, and it’s all because of you.”

As they held each other close, sharing intimate declarations of love in front of the entire world to see, Bucky realized that maybe this show wasn’t all editing magic and manipulative producers. Maybe something real could come from this thing, and looking at Steve, who watched him fondly, holding his hand gently, maybe he could feel something like that with him by the end of this whole journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, folks! Our first declaration of L O V E on LOVE Island! 💘
> 
> I love Sam and Riley; I think you all love Sam and Riley too. So, I think we can all agree that they deserve this moment completely 😊
> 
> (If you're a fan of the show, you may have gotten the vibe of a specific recoupling ceremony after Casa Amor, and that's absolutely the case! This scene was definitely inspired by Tommy and Molly-Mae from S5 of Love Island UK. The way that Molly-Mae collapsed and broke down in tears when she saw Tommy alone may be the first time that I felt genuine emotion from the show, and it always stuck with me and was something that I felt needed to be hinted at in this story.)
> 
> 🎧 "Sanctuary" - Joji (Two Joji songs in a row - Is that allowed?)
> 
> (TW: Blood - If you're watching the video)
> 
> (Again, the visuals have almost nothing to do with the song, but Joji's a weird dude who likes cinematic, sometimes graphic videos. This one is actually inspired by sci-fi, and it's really fun, but if blood is a concern of yours, skip the video on YouTube.)
> 
> (I really think this the perfect song for Riley and Sam (in this AU and any universe tbh). I love, love, love the angel motif with Sam Wilson; obviously, I've been playing into that heavily, and this song does the same. It's a super sweet love song with a really catchy chorus, and it's very much a 'sunlight streaming through the clouds' moment compared to "Wanted U" when played back-to-back.)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...If you've been missing the Stucky interactions, I think you'll be very happy 😊


	36. Chapter 36

**Episode 36**

“Well, that was–”

“Intense?” Bucky offered.

Steve nodded with a grin. “I was going to say emotional, but yeah.”

They sat beside each other along the edge of the pool, slacks pulled up so that their feet could dangle in the water. After the recoupling, everyone had splintered into their couples, except for Wanda, Carol, and Val, of course, who remained seated around the now-extinguished fire pit. Thor and Jane were trying out the rarely-utilized hot tub with Scott and Hope, and Peggy and Angie were sharing snacks at the breakfast bar in the kitchenette. On the swinging, padded bench seats, Riley laid his head in Sam’s lap, lying sideways, while Sam rocked them back and forth.

The sight of them back together, admittedly _in love_ , warmed Bucky’s heart. “You don’t think they’re moving too fast, do you?”

“No, I wouldn’t say so. I’ve seen people who said it way earlier who are still together and people who said it later and fell apart. I think it depends on the couple. I feel like that sort of thing is just something you know when you know…y’know?”

Laughing, Bucky lightly kicked water over at him. “No, I agree, though,” he said, and _wow_ , what a sappy opinion of love to admit out loud.

The last time that he had said he was in love with someone was that seven-month relationship after law school in between his internship and first job. Having shared a few classes together, studying privately at each other’s apartments, the transition between friendship to relationship had been easy. Dating felt natural, as they had already shared countless containers of late-night takeout together and knew each other’s Chinese food orders by heart. Starting their first jobs at different firms, they continued the occasional dates but slowly lost their frequent contact. It took only a couple more months to realize that maybe they were too busy to keep up the motions of a real relationship. By that point, they were exchanging ‘I love you’s, but to Bucky, the three words always felt automatic, perfunctory, like it was the _right_ thing to say. Reflecting back, he realized that although they loved each other, they weren’t _in_ love – in the mystical, sparks-flying, movie-magic, Sam/Riley sense.

Bucky realized that he had actually _never_ felt that. With anyone.

And that was okay! That was fine. He’d always been so damn ‘busy’ to not worry about finding a love like that, but now that he was here, presented with a prime example of what that relationship could be like, maybe it could happen soon. (Maybe it could happen with the guy beside him.)

Steve brought him back down to earth from his thoughts. “So, how did you enjoy your stay at Casa Amor?”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky scoffed. “Imagine having a crying supermodel in your lap all day.”

“Imagine having a crying airline pilot in your lap all day!” Steve laughed.

“Oh, god. Sam was crying too?”

“Yeah. He took the video pretty hard.”

“You guys got a video too?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, both villas get sent one. He wasn’t sure what to make of you two talking about princes or whatever.”

Bucky had to resist the urge to roll his eyes again. _Of course_ , the one and only time that either of them even remotely talked about the new Islanders in a fond manner was the clip that was isolated for Sam and Steve to see. “Christ, that was practically a joke. Who the hell were you two calling hot, and why was Sam talking about recoupling with someone?”

“What?” Steve narrowed his eyes, as if trying to comprehend his question, pairing it with a memory. “ _Oh_. Oh, no, we weren’t – he wasn’t.” Suddenly flustered, Steve shook his head, laughing off the encroaching blush. “We were talking to Thor about Jane. He was falling for her and didn’t know what to do about it. He felt guilty about leaving Val, but he was telling us that even though he was enjoying his time with Val, he could actually see a future with Jane. Like a _romantic_ future. I know you weren’t there to see it, but when she walked in, Bucky?”

Casting his eyes over to where Thor was beaming at Jane in the hot tub, Steve sighed. “We saw a completely different side of him. He was soft and gentle, and he was _nervous_. He wasn’t just pulling out the usual moves with her; he wanted to really impress her. And once they actually got to know each other, it was clear that they had a genuine connection. So, seeing that, Sam and I wanted to convince him to trust his gut and pursue that possibility, because she could really be someone special for him. That conversation was all about getting him to realize that, and it sure as hell was not about me and Sam thinking of picking other people. Sorry, but you’re it for me, babe.”

_God_ , how was Bucky supposed to reply to that? Bucky could understand his reasoning completely, knowing that Steve, himself, had been in a similar situation. And hearing that after being in that situation, Steve described Bucky as ‘it’ for him?

That feeling was unparalleled.

Bucky tossed his hair behind his shoulders, all of a sudden feeling hot. Melting him even further, Steve grinned at him with a joke on his tongue. “I mean, as long as that’s okay with you. I figured since you didn’t come back with anyone else, you’d still want to be coupled with me.”

“No, you’re definitely right,” Bucky said. “I had no interest in getting to know anyone else there.”

Steve shrugged, looking down at the pool. “I wouldn’t have been offended if you did. When I woke up alone on that first day, I realized that this was probably how you felt for almost that entire week I was with Peggy. You would have been totally justified in talking to someone else while you were there–”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted, unable to listen to his nervous ramblings any longer. “Absolutely not. I told you that I want to be exclusive with you for a reason. I would have never made those promises to you a few days ago if I never meant them, and I definitely wouldn’t have spent the last few nights sleeping outside if I never intended to _keep_ them.”

Shyly, Steve turned his head to him again. “You’ve been sleeping outside too? I wasn’t sure if you’d do that, since you haven’t seen the show before.”

“Yeah, Riley told me, and we’ve been sleeping together. Do you know how hard it is to cuddle with someone when you’re both little spoons?”

Steve chuckled. “Sam and I have been sharing a daybed together, and it’s not any easier when you’re both big spoons. There’s a huge clash of power dynamics, constantly wrestling over who should take control.”

Recalling a certain scene from the video, Bucky laughed. “Oh, I get it. I saw the kiss.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned. “What a nightmare. Great guy, don’t get me wrong. He’s an amazing friend, but he’s not really the guy I want to kiss.”

“Yeah?” Bucky smirked, bumping his shoulder against Steve’s. “And who would that be?”

Playing coy, Steve shrugged before leaning closer, closer and closer, until Bucky could feel his breath on his face. Steve pressed a light kiss to his chin before nosing up his face, tracing along his jaw, without ever truly applying any real pressure. Dancing around his lips, Steve moved to the other side and worked up his jaw with the same vague impression of kisses before nipping at his ear and pulling away with a sigh. “I don’t actually know,” Steve said. “Why don’t you tell me who you think I should kiss?”

“You’re such a tease,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes and feeling his heart slightly deflate in his chest.

“Oh, I sure am, but I bet you missed me.”

Reminded of exactly how much he missed these conversations or even just being around Steve, Bucky nodded with a bashful half-smile. “Yeah, I did.”

“Speaking of teases, though,” Steve said and immediately piqued Bucky’s interest. “What did you think of those gifts in your suitcase?”

Bucky couldn’t hide the blush that immediately appeared on his face. “Was that your idea?”

“Technically, it was Sam’s idea for the shirts and cologne, but the, uh – _other_ thing – was my idea.” His typically-clear, blue eyes looked a shade darker, and the curve of his lips was wicked. The sight alone almost made Bucky shudder, exaggerated by the breeze that blew past them, rustling his hair, but the next thing that Steve said, dropping his voice to a low, baritone rumble, definitely chilled him to the core: “Did you enjoy them?”

Bucky couldn’t possibly fathom telling Steve that he wore his briefs to bed, dreaming that Steve had gotten them dirty first before packing them, or that he moaned Steve’s name into the bunched armpit of his t-shirt pressed against his mouth, inhaling his scent and sweat and musk, imagining him kneeling on the wet tile floor, as he got himself off that morning in the shower. Instead, Bucky played Steve’s game and lowered his lashes. “The clothes were cute, but I think I prefer the guy who wears them.”

Catching on, Steve had no problem parroting Bucky’s words from earlier. “Yeah, and who would that be?”

Embracing the role reversal, Bucky took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to Steve’s chin before moving along his jaw far slower than the pace that Steve took, painfully-slow, nearly comically-slow. Unlike Steve, however, Bucky allowed his lips to hover over Steve’s, never pushing them together but occasionally allowing mere cells to brush, breath mingling. He resisted the urge to messily, shamelessly crash their mouths together, and putting on his most alluring, tempting tone of voice, he moved to Steve’s ear. “I quite like this guy, but I think I want more of him tonight.”

Beaming ear to ear, Steve looked him over like he was a pretty, purple-wrapped gift tied together with a silver bow on Christmas fucking morning. “Why don’t we go get ready for bed, then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I missed these two flirting! Let me know if you agree! 😅
> 
> I definitely wanted a purely, Stucky-centric chapter for them to talk things over and debrief, clearing up any assumptions before all the hectic challenges and whatnot start again. Communication? With these two?? Who would've guessed! 😂
> 
> Such a fun little episode that segues perfectly into tomorrow's - which I'm telling you right now is one of my absolute FAVORITES! (It might be different from what you're expecting, but I think you're going to love it!) 😉
> 
> As always, I love hearing what you think about where we are in the story, so feel free to leave a comment! Five full weeks down if you can believe it - WOW! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following along 😊
> 
> Next time on Love Island...Make sure you pack your sunglasses, swimsuits, and sunblock 🏝


	37. Chapter 37

**Episode 37**

In the morning, Bucky woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. A warm mug appeared in his hands, and a sleepy grin appeared on his face. He took a sip before he even opened his eyes, embracing the flood across his taste buds, sharp bitterness masked by sweet cream and a nutty, buttery syrup. Slowly, he swallowed it, savoring it.

He opened his eyes to greet the man who made it, who was looking down at him with a fond grin, back pressed against the headboard of their bed. “I think you’re my favorite person in the world right now,” Bucky said, lacking any hyperbole, wholeheartedly genuine.

Chuckling, Steve leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, leaving his lips against Bucky’s face as he muttered, “Remind me to give you more lattes and orgasms, then.”

Too content and satiated to scoff, Bucky rested his head against Steve’s broad chest and took another sip, willing to spend the rest of the entire summer never leaving their bed. When he finished his drink, he acknowledged that unrealistic expectation and compromised with a sigh, “I wish we could stay like this for the rest of the day.”

Naturally, as if listening to their conversation, waiting for the exact moment, a producer had other plans. Steve’s phone chimed on his nightstand, and he reached over to grab it without disturbing Bucky. Bucky felt Steve’s quiet laughter as vibrations beneath his ear before he read the message out loud to Bucky and the others who perked up at the sound of the text tone. “Steve and Bucky, please prepare yourselves to leave the villa for your second official date. #Sun-and-Sand #Love-By-The-Beach”

Someone whistled, and someone else cheered. Meanwhile, Bucky blushed and suddenly felt wide awake.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

“So, how’d you sleep last night?” Riley asked with a smirk, as if knowing exactly what had taken place in the bed to his right after the lights went dark.

Bucky continued picking through his closet, knowing there was no point in arguing. “Let’s just say that it’s all about the,” he paused to remember the precise phrase that Riley had used while having a similar conversation, “ _little things_ in life.”

Riley crowed gleefully, head thrown back. “Oh, I bet there’s nothin’ little about Steve’s thing, though, is there?”

Taking a shirt from a hanger, Bucky decided to plead the Fifth.

“Seriously, what’d you two kids get up to last night? And please feel free to describe it in as graphic detail as you feel comfortable. Please.”

At the suggestion, Bucky rolled his eyes but also knew that he was bursting at the seams to tell someone else about the night prior. “It wasn’t even anything too wild. Just got a little – _handsy_ , is all,” Bucky said through a demure giggle.

Listening back to himself, Bucky couldn’t believe how childish he sounded. He was a grown-ass man, _for Christ’s sake_ , talking about receiving and reciprocating a handjob with the person that he was exclusively dating, another grown-ass man. It was a perfectly natural evolution in their physical relationship and nothing to be ashamed of. But there was something about the context of the villa and something about the action itself, bringing each other over the cusp of pleasure in a communal bedroom, that was so thrilling and illicit and just the right shade of sinful.

It reminded him of being spread out over a study room table in the library during his undergrad years, holding back his moans to keep from being shushed by his unsuspecting peers in the rooms beside him, laughing as he told the story to Nat the next morning. This was pretty similar.

(And, so what, maybe he enjoyed laughing about communal-bedroom HJ’s with a supermodel; it was fun.)

But, as much as he enjoyed regaling the pretty blonde with stories of his own debauchery, Bucky still needed to get ready for this upcoming, very exciting date. “Obviously we’re going to the beach, so I need trunks, but what shirt should I wear with them?”

“Well, what swimmie shorts are you wearing?”

“I was thinking the red ones.”

“The shorter pair with the white trim?” Riley asked, and Bucky nodded. “ _Yes_. Show off that cake!”

Bucky shooed away Riley’s hand from slapping his ass. “Yes, yes, now what shirt?”

“Is that even a question?” Riley immediately zeroed in on one section of his hanging clothes and pulled out one particular shirt: a white, short-sleeve button-down with a red lobster print. “It’s cute, matches perfectly, and it’ll encourage him to pinch ya.” Riley winked before turning his back, so Bucky could change. “Wear it unbuttoned too so you can flaunt those abs.”

Following his sage advice, Bucky did just that, and the look of pleasant surprise on Steve’s face in the foyer when he saw Bucky descending the stairs, eyes lit up and smile gleaming, told him that it was the perfect outfit. Steve looked excellent, himself, in a peach-colored button-down over navy swim trunks.

The walk had been longer than the one Bucky took alone for their first date, but being able to hold Steve’s hand the entire time, caressed in his firm grasp, made it much more enjoyable. And, _oh_ , the view when they got there made the sore feeling on his heels completely worth it. Kicking off his sandals, Bucky sunk his tired feet into soft, warm sand and admired the way that the early-morning sunlight sparkled across the crests of the crystal, blue waves. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the salty-yet-refreshing ocean air.

“Wow,” Bucky said, breathless. “This is beautiful.”

“Beyond beautiful,” Steve agreed, but his eyes weren’t trained on the beach.

A few feet from the shoreline, a red-checkered picnic blanket had been laid out with a wicker basket securing its place. As they sat beside each other, watching a wave be chased away by the tide, Steve pulled out two glasses – _real_ glass, as if they were finally trusted with the legit stemware a month into the process – and a bottle of champagne from the basket. Shaking his head, Bucky laughed. “How much of your budget goes to champagne?”

“That’s the question you really want to start this off with, huh? Budgets?” Steve teased with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky rolled his eyes and asked the black-and-white, number-loving side of his brain to take a break. Next, emptying the basket, Steve presented him with a nice assortment of grapes and strawberries, cubed cheeses and crackers. After laying the spread between them and popping and divvying up the champagne, Steve raised his glass.

“To our second date?” Bucky suggested.

Clinking their glasses together, Steve grinned. “And many more.”

That thought made the champagne taste even sweeter on his tongue.

While they sampled the fruit and cheese, Steve nodded toward the waves. “Are you a fan of the beach?”

“Love the beach,” Bucky said, listening to the seabirds calling to each other in the distance. “As a single mom, Ma never had enough money to afford a big, week-long vacation, but every summer, she would take my sister and me on a daytrip to Jersey. We never knew what day it was happening. One morning, she’d come into our rooms, wake us up before the sun rose with the car already packed, and we’d head down. Along the way, we always made a stop at our favorite diner for breakfast, and Becca and I got Mickey-Mouse pancakes. We spent the first half of the day on the beach, building sandcastles and jumping in the waves, and then, we’d walk the boardwalk, getting caramel popcorn and those jumbo slices of pizza and playing games until sunset. Becks and I would be passed out not even five minutes of being on the Turnpike on the way home. Those were without a doubt the best days of summer, and I haven’t forgotten a single one.”

Steve listened to the whole story with an encouraging, engaging smile. “That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a chuckle. “I guess that was my longwinded way of saying, yes, I really like the beach.”

Steve nodded. “I love it too, and _my_ Ma was the same way. She couldn’t afford to send me on those lengthy, overseas trips to beaches in, like Italy or Spain, like some of the other kids, but at the end of my senior year of high school, my friends and I wanted to rent a house along the beach for a week. She worked her ass off, taking extra shifts at the hospital, to make sure I had enough money, combined with my own paychecks from washing dishes at our favorite pizza shop, to cover my share of the rent. If that wasn’t enough, she then had the _audacity_ to give me extra money so that I could ‘have a good time.’ I had an awesome time, but I refused to spend any of that extra money. I gave it right back to her when I got home and told her that she could spend it on herself when we took our own trip one day. After my first season with the show as a producer, I flew her out to California for us to spend a week in Malibu.”

Shaking his head, Bucky could hardly believe him. That story alone told him so much about Steve – his generosity, his love for his mother, his hardworking spirit, even his appreciation of the beach. “You’re incredible, Steve.”

Steve shrugged. “It was the least I could do for her. She was my hero growing up. She was my best friend and taught me everything I needed to know about life. At first, I didn’t even want to go on the beach trip senior year, thinking it’d be a waste of money, but she told me it’d be worth it. She said that memories were meant to be made by the ocean, and I think I’m starting to understand what she meant by that.”

The glimmer in Steve’s steady, ocean-colored eyes stole Bucky’s breath away.

Swallowing a much-needed sip of champagne, Bucky tried to think of an adequate response. “Your mother sounds like a wise woman.”

“Oh, she’s brilliant. I really hope you can meet her one day. I think she’d love you,” Steve said, apparently without any regard to how those implications would make Bucky blush, face immediately flashing red while friendly butterflies threw a fit in his stomach.

And that _thought_? Meeting the woman who imbued Steve with her values and beliefs, shaping him into the wonderful man that sat beside him? The woman who would supposedly _love_ him? The woman who was the mother of his…?

As if reading that question on his face, Steve cleared his throat and lowered his voice to something that was a bit more serious. The hand raking through his hair shook slightly, almost nervous. “I guess that’s pretty forward of me to suggest when we aren’t really together in a traditional sense, but these past few days helped me realize a few things that I want to see how you feel about, and I think now is kinda the perfect opportunity.”

Holding his breath, as he felt his blood pressure spike, Bucky tried not to get his hopes up for what Steve was going to say. When he was ready, he nodded for Steve to continue.

Steve needed a moment to steady himself too, and Bucky offered his hand over top of his against the blanket in support. Looking down at their hands, Steve’s bright smile returned to his face. “When you were at Casa Amor and they brought in the new Islanders, I missed you so goddamn much. I hated introducing myself to people, because I couldn’t care less about getting to know them. I told them that too. I told them right away that there was no one that they could introduce me to that would change my mind about you. You really _are_ it for me, and while I’m glad that we made that decision to be exclusive, I wished that we, uh – I wished that I could have said that we were more than that.”

Bucky nodded again, pulse racing and glad that he could actually hear Steve over the pounding of his heart, smile starting to crack through his tense lips.

Appreciating the encouragement, Steve continued. “I watched Sam refer to Riley so easily as his boyfriend, and well, I wished I could’ve said the same about you.” As Bucky kept himself from gasping, Steve adjusted his hand so that he could lace their fingers together, explaining himself before Bucky could object. “I know we said that we didn’t want to rush into anything, but I feel so strongly about this, Bucky. I think the reason why we ran into those problems early in our relationship was _because_ we were so afraid of labeling what we had.

“But at the same time, I think all of those obstacles made our relationship that much stronger. If I had been a contestant since the first day, not being forced to watch you coupled with someone you didn’t like, I’m not sure I would’ve felt that same protective, magnetic pull to you. If I hadn’t been coupled with Peggy, I’m not sure I would’ve realized how special you were to me and how special our connection was. And if you hadn’t gone to Casa Amor, maybe it would have taken even longer to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

Suddenly feeling like Riley, Bucky raised a hand to his mouth, blinking away pinpricks in his eyes, and allowed Steve to finish his little speech. “Because that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m laying all my cards out on the table, and I’m asking you to be my boyfriend. So, what do you think?”

_What did he think?_ Bucky couldn’t form a single coherent thought! His mind was swirling with a million different fragments of ideas, a million emotions overwhelming his body, making him want to cry, to scream, to laugh, to spontaneously combust.

He must have waited too long to reply, because Steve was talking again, frantically rambling off an additional explanation. “I, uh – I know there’s probably a bunch of things that we don’t know about each other yet that a boyfriend should know, but–”

Bucky interrupted him with a kiss.

Perhaps leaning forward with a bit too much force, Steve made a startled noise against his mouth before melting into the kiss. Steve set his glass down on the blanket to snake his arms around Bucky’s waist, while Bucky simply dropped his glass onto the sand, trusting it not to break and not caring about the spilled champagne, as he wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck. Lips urgently latching together, Bucky pressed further against him, forcing Steve to lean back on his elbows, pushing the picnic basket out of the way.

For a brief moment, Bucky pulled away, enjoying the wet smack their mouths made when they separated and saying confidently, “Steve Rogers, there is nothing more that I want to be right now than your boyfriend. What could we possibly not know about each other yet that would change that?”

Eyes widening at Bucky’s admission, Steve shrugged at his question. “I don’t even know. I was trying to think of deal breakers, like – I don’t know. What if my Ma invited us over for Thanksgiving and, god forbid, you turned out to be the type of person that brings, like, _coleslaw_?”

Bucky blinked and narrowed his eyes at him, as the ethereal bubble above them burst. “Steve, I do like coleslaw.”

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “No, absolutely not. Get off of me. Sorry this relationship is over now. No way in hell am I going to keep kissing a mouth that likes coleslaw.”

Laughing as Steve weakly attempted to wriggle away from him, Bucky puckered his lips, refusing to be mocked immediately after becoming his boyfriend. “Sorry, too late. You’re stuck with me now. ‘Til the end of the show, baby.”

Serious now, Steve narrowed his eyes this time. “ _Just_ ‘til the end of the show? How about we set that goal a little higher. ‘Til the end of the…”

Bored of waiting for Steve to finish that thought, Bucky situated himself comfortably between Steve’s legs and pressed him back to the ground. “How about we figure that out later?”

Bucky’s boyfriend agreed with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🎉 🎉 🎉 BOYFRIENDS!!! 🎉 🎉 🎉
> 
> Originally, I planned for this ~special event~ to take place a lot later in the process, not until their final date when they really started planning for their future together outside of the villa. But if there is one main moral to get out of this story, I think it's to not be afraid to take risks and to never hide how you feel, and at this point, after so much growth individually and as a couple, these two are ready for this next step. I think the label comes with a lot of comfort and hints at the promises that they'll be making together for years and years to come. I'm really happy about this chapter, and I hope you are too! 😊
> 
> Memories by the beach! I hope you enjoyed finally learning where the concept for the cover art for this story comes from - such an important moment! If you haven't seen it yet, check it out at buckyandthejets.tumblr.com 😄
> 
> 🎧 "Pop Thieves (Make It Feel Good)" - Childish Gambino
> 
> (What gorgeous love song has seagulls, crashing waves, and other beach noises, you may be asking? This one!)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...Let's keep celebrating the good vibes with a perfect challenge for our happy couple! 😊


	38. Chapter 38

**Episode 38**

The walk back to the villa was all smiles and giggles, lighthearted longing and gentle nudges. Playfully shoving each other down the path, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, as if constantly reassuring themselves that the other man was real. When they reached the entrance to the house, Bucky reached out an arm to stop him, and Steve stumbled against him, not expecting the sudden stop.

“Wait,” Bucky said, hatching a devious plan. “Follow my lead.” 

Bucky dropped his smirk for a pout, hoping to distract from the sparkling joy in his eyes, and despite the initial confusion, Steve did the same thing. They met the others outside on the back deck, where they always were. Sharing a sandwich with Sam, Riley greeted them first, letting out an excited squeal that was muffled by bread, ham, and cheese. Thor and Jane looked over from the fire pit, and Carol and Val sat up from their daybed. “How was the date?” Riley asked.

Steve allowed Bucky to take the lead. Stepping away from Steve, Bucky accepted Riley’s outstretched hand with a sigh. “Well, it was pretty nice, except for…”

As he trailed off, Riley’s eyes softened, frowning and clearly growing concerned. “What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Well,” Bucky began and forced another pained, sorrowful sigh from his lungs, preparing himself to give the _terrible_ news. “Steve and I decided that it was time to end the relationship that we’ve developed so far.”

Riley sucked in his breath, and some of the others let out gasps of their own. “What? What happened?”

“We decided to end it,” Bucky said, pausing long enough to build that magical, reality TV tension and waiting a few seconds longer before breaking into a wide grin, “…because now Steve’s my boyfriend.”

“ _What_?” Riley repeated with another gasp, raising his hands to his face. “Really?”

“Really.” Taking his cue, Steve stepped over to the counter, and Bucky instinctively tucked into his side.

While the others cheered or whistled, Riley looked about ready to cry but also somehow more excited than when Sam asked _him_ to be his boyfriend. “Oh my god! I got so scared! Why would you do that to me?"

Bucky laughed and pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry, honey. I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re the worst, and you’re not my friend anymore,” Riley said, as he kissed both Bucky and Steve on the cheek.

For the first time as an official couple, they worked their way around the deck, thanking the other Islanders for their unending support. Even Peggy embraced them with open arms and a genuine smile on cherry-red lips, gently patting Bucky on the back. But their receiving line of congratulations was cut short by a familiar digital chime.

“I got a text!” Bruce shouted out, and with all of them already centralized around the fire pit, he could continue reading it, “Islanders, it’s time to test how much you truly know about your partners in the Newly-Partnered Game! #Kiss-And-Quiz #Make-Or-Break”

[ _Now, before you or your lawyers ask, the Newly-Partnered Game has absolutely no relation to the Newlywed Game…except for the overall mechanics, questions, and basic idea, but don’t worry about that! All of our couples will have ten minutes to freshen up on their knowledge of each other – or, you know, in the cases of the three couples who met each other, like, yesterday, ask these questions to each other in the first place. Then, we’ll all gather by our favorite fire pit, and – oh hell, Steve’s explaining it to Bucky now. Let’s just listen to the handsome man, instead of the disembodied voice, shall we?_ ]

“So, we all get slates of whiteboard to write down our answers,” Steve said, sitting beside Bucky on the bench along the outer perimeter. “The question will be like, ‘What is Steve’s favorite food?’ I’ll write down my answer, and you write down your answer. Ideally, we write down the same thing, we get a point, and the question moves on to the next couple. The couple with the most points at the end obviously wins the game.”

“Cool,” Bucky said, grasping the concept quickly, having seen the game show they were ripping off plenty of times when Becca was going through her vintage TV phase in high school.

“Yeah, I think this will be fun for us. It’ll be like a little test for us. A boyfriend test. That I hopefully won’t fail miserably.”

_Tell me about it_ , Bucky thought, shaking his head. “Although I don’t think you’ll have any trouble, considering you had the chance to study me before coming here.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Please, I studied _all_ of you. There’s better odds of me mixing you up with someone else, rather than actually remembering that bullshit on your application.”

“Well, what should we talk about then? What types of things do they ask?”

“Lots of basic icebreaker things. Middle names, siblings, hometowns, foods, colors, animals – stuff like that. And this isn’t me taking advantage of my production experience either. Anyone who’s watched the show before knows that we ask the same types of questions every year.”

“Alright, let’s do it. I think you know my middle name since it’s where my nickname comes from, but still, it’s Buchanan. James Buchanan Barnes.” _J.D._ , Bucky would add if he was feeling extra pretentious.

“Right. Mine’s Grant – Steven Grant Rogers,” Steve said and then chuckled, “and I’m realizing now that we were both named after presidents.”

Bucky laughed with him. “I guess so.”

“I think I mentioned before that I’m an only child, and I know that you have a younger sister. Just one, right?”

“Yup. Rebecca.”

“Bucky and Becky,” Steve mused. “Your parents intend that?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Of course, they remembered the great coincidence that they both grew up in Brooklyn, wondering if they had ever wandered into the same corner market at the same time as kids without knowing it. Bucky shared that he had an affinity for Italian food of all types, and Steve admitted that even after working in a pizzeria, scrubbing grease and cheese from pans, a nice slice of pepperoni was his go-to, cheat-day meal. Bucky liked red after Nat insisted that it was ‘his’ color, and Steve liked blue, which Bucky definitely agreed was _his_. Bucky wasn’t sure if he had a favorite animal, but he quite liked visiting aquariums and had fond memories of dolphin exhibits; Steve was quick to say that he loved dogs (“every single one on the planet, Bucky”) even though he had never owned one.

They were cute, relatively unimportant but somehow enlightening facts to know about each other, and then Steve asked, “Favorite sex position?”

Bucky blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, they ask it every season. You don’t even have to tell the truth.”

“Right. Well, Jesus, I don’t even know,” Bucky said and tried to think about it without thinking too hard about it. He enjoyed sex in quite a few different ways, and he delved deep into fairly adventurous PornHub categories. But as for his _favorite_ position? Regardless of the fact that this information might become public knowledge, transmitted through a major cable network that any of his family members or friends or clients could see, he felt comfortable discussing his intimate interests with the man who was now his boyfriend. So, he could say as a grown adult that maybe, if he had to pinpoint that answer, it would be, “Doggie.”

Leaning back, Steve nodded slowly, almost academic or professional in nature. As if, like Bucky, he _definitely was not_ envisioning the implications of that position when applied to their own bed, forcing Bucky’s face into the mattress while on his hands and knees, bent over, using his body to chase his pleasure, thighs slamming together. “Great,” Steve replied, needing to clear his throat before speaking.

Despite the feverish blush, Bucky still smirked at Steve’s delayed reaction. “Sure. And what’s yours?”

Without hesitation, Steve said, “Oh, Spread Eagle. One hundred percent.”

_Oh_ , that was – good. Great. Bucky shouldn’t have been too surprised to learn that the man who was practically the sculpture of a bodybuilder enjoyed a bit of gymnastics in bed. But that was another mental image Bucky did not need to be thinking about at the given moment. He nodded, instead. “Cool.”

“Yeah. So, uh, birthdays?” Steve suggested with a chuckle.

“Good idea,” Bucky said, appreciating the change of pace and detour from seriously considering how far he could spread his thighs. “March 10th.”

“March 10th,” Steve repeated, as if to help remember it. “Mine’s July 4th.”

Bucky nodded on impulse but then paused. “Wait. Your middle name’s Grant, your favorite color is blue, your favorite sex position is the Spread _Eagle_ , and you were born on the Fourth of July? You’re kidding me.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Steve shook his head. “Nope. That’s all true.”

“A bit on the nose with the patriotism, Mr. America, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve sighed.

“That means we’re celebrating your birthday here, though. That has to be soon, isn’t it?”

Bucky had admittedly lost track of the days that they had been there, but he knew that they started filming in late May. As he reached for his phone to check the date on the lockscreen, Steve beat him to it. “It’s tomorrow,” he said quietly, suddenly sheepish.

“ _What_ _?_ Why didn’t you tell me?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Excuse you,” Bucky argued. “It’s my boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow. That’s a very big deal.”

“It’s not like we can really celebrate it, though.”

“Excuse you again. I can already think of a _variety_ of ways that we can celebrate tomorrow.”

Steve caught the glimmer in his eye and smirked back. “If you say so.”

Before Bucky could elaborate on any of those ideas, Jim Morita called them over to the fire pit. Wanda stood beside a whiteboard that had been wheeled over, having volunteered to host the game after Carol and Val temporarily recoupled to compete in it. The names of each of the couples were written out in one column with space for their scores beside them. Morita reiterated the rules of the game, because they apparently weren’t trusted to comprehend it the first time. Taking his place alongside the other producers behind the cameras, he gave Wanda the okay to read the first question from the official notecards she had been given.

“Alright,” Wanda said. “Starting with Steve and Bucky, what is Steve’s mom’s name?”

They hadn’t reviewed this question in their ten minutes, but Bucky remembered it from one of the conversations in the weeks prior, thinking that her name sounded delightful. When Wanda asked if they were ready, Bucky turned his whiteboard around. “Sarah McGee Rogers.”

“Is that correct?” Wanda asked.

Visibly impressed, Steve nodded before turning around his board. “I mean, I just wrote Sarah, but yeah, that’s it.”

“Does that count for extra?” Riley asked before Wanda shook her head, adding a single tally next to Steve and Bucky’s names. As they moved on throughout the half-circle, Wanda proceeded to add marks beside Thor & Jane, Peggy & Angie, Maria & Bruce, Carol & Val, and Sam & Riley.

As they turned to look at the last couple, Sam smirked. “Scott, you have absolutely no excuse if you get this question wrong, man.”

Thankfully for Scott, he didn’t need an excuse when he turned his board around at the same time as Hope’s, both reading, of course, “Janet.”

Seeing as everyone had gotten the question correct, Bucky quickly realized the advantage of the last-minute review aspect of the game. The next two questions further proved that principle, watching their score easily increase to three points with Steve knowing Bucky’s middle name and Bucky knowing very personally where Steve grew up. At that point, they were tied with Sam & Riley and Carol & Val, each earning three points, while the others missed a question.

The fourth question, however, had been another one that they didn’t discuss. “Steve,” Wanda said, “what is Bucky’s biggest pet peeve?”

Bucky had to think for himself for a moment how to answer that question. The first week of the show alone reminded him of a good number of pet peeves that he had, but the whiteboard was only big enough to write down _one_ of Brock’s qualities.

“Ready?” Wanda asked, and Bucky nodded.

“I wrote down ignorance.”

Before spinning his board, Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Ah, I said arrogance.”

Bucky admitted that it was a good answer, but it was still technically incorrect in regard to the game. They made up for it in the next round, though, with the next question, asking how Steve took his coffee. Laughing, Bucky wrote down his response: “Gross A.K.A. black.”

At that point in the game, Sam & Riley were tied with Carol & Val, neither couple having missed a question yet. Sam flipped his board proudly. “No coffee for Riley. Tea, instead, and preferably herbal.”

Riley bit his lip and hesitantly turned his board around. “That’s so true, honey, but I wrote down what my answer would have been if I was still drinking coffee. No milk, two sugars.”

They both sighed but shrugged it off, while Carol and Val eagerly showed each other their boards after both writing, “One milk, one sugar” for Val, which earned them their fifth point.

Steve and Bucky attempted to chase their lead, as they both guessed correctly that Bucky would win a game of Monopoly. “I assume you have some excellent, Calculus-based strategy that involves investing early and saving for retirement,” Steve explained with a smirk.

“Not too far off,” Bucky said, playing into his joke. “I play Monopoly for blood, sweetheart.”

The others’ answers didn’t really matter with Carol and Val both writing that Carol would win.

The final question didn’t matter either, despite Bucky knowing all-too-well Steve’s favorite sex position. “Ca-caw,” Bucky crowed ( _get it?_ ) when he turned his board around, and Steve spun his around to show a surprisingly-detailed eagle displayed in blue whiteboard marker.

As Wanda noted their sixth and final point, Thor whistled. “Care to demonstrate?”

Steve flipped him off before they went around the arch, laughing at each other’s responses and waiting to see if Carol and Val had yet again matched their answers. It was probably the one and only time in his life that Bucky would see two people so enthusiastic about both having written on whiteboards the phrase, “Reverse Cowgirl.”

Everyone had to acknowledge the incredible feat of earning a perfect score, especially when they weren’t even coupled together. As Carol and Val hugged each other, Bucky saw in their eyes that they would probably take this opportunity to reevaluate being in a couple again. The already-perfect opportunity was made even more perfect when Carol received a text that for winning the game, they would be spending a night in the Hideaway. Bucky couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy at the prize, thinking of how amazing it would have been to share a night alone with Steve the day that they had become an official couple _and_ the night before his birthday, but he couldn’t deny the connection and clear spark that Carol and Val demonstrated with broad smiles, seemingly invigorated, shining brighter, from their time spent apart.

Plus, Bucky had some other ideas to give Steve the best birthday of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk about you, but I love the Newly-Partnered Game 😂
> 
> What a perfect chapter for a mini prank and our lovely boyfriends to show off how much they know about each other 😊
> 
> As always, thank you so, so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos - everything that you're doing to support this story is so incredibly humbling and I really cannot thank you enough! 
> 
> The next chapter is Steve's birthday, and as I'm sure you can already guess from the tags and where we are in the story, it will be another huge development in Bucky and Steve's relationship. (For all my 18+ friends, I hope you're excited 😉)
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."Happy birthday, Steve." 🎉


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, please take a moment to check the rating and new tags 👀
> 
> As you can see, with this being one of those explicit chapters, please only read and comment if you are 18+. Thank you! 🏝

**Episode 39**

Bucky woke up in the morning with a plan.

Technically, he hadn’t really been asleep, fading in and out of consciousness, anxiously waking every hour on the hour to make sure that he got up before Steve. He realized early on in filming the show that the bedroom lights flashed on promptly at 8:00 AM, which meant that when his eyes blearily opened to read 6:59 on his phone, he needed to stay awake. Steve’s warm breath on the back of his neck made this challenge more difficult than he anticipated. With one strong arm draped over his waist, Bucky wanted nothing more than to lean back into his embrace, feeling Steve’s firm chest and abs on his back, and drift off into peaceful dreams with his face resting on the pillow of Steve’s bicep.

But Bucky couldn’t do that this morning. He needed to resist that intoxicating temptation and stay awake, so that he could greet Steve in the morning exactly how he deserved.

If staying awake was Phase 1 of his plan, then somehow, just barely, he succeeded and could commence Phase 2. He decided that 7:30 would give him plenty of time to finish before Steve would be forced awake by the lights.

Standing alone in the kitchenette, listening to the sizzle of bacon, waiting for the toaster to spring up, Bucky cracked eggs into a pan and reflected back on how unbelievable this summer had been. He placed his practice on hold in order to compete on a reality TV show, which he had no intention of taking seriously. He planned to support his best friend for a week or two before heading home – nothing changed, no new connections formed. But then Nat got sent home early, and now, he was friends with a model with a far more complex past than he ever imagined and he was cooking breakfast for his boyfriend on his birthday.

_My, how the times have changed_.

After being splashed by popping bacon grease on his bare chest more than enough times (i.e. once), Bucky looked in the cabinets for a standing tray that he could prop up in their bed. He found one above the coffee machine, reminding him to fill a mug for Steve.

Once all of the elements were ready, he arranged the pieces on a plate and looked down fondly at his creation. The scrambled eggs were fluffy, well-seasoned with salt, pepper, and a pinch of cayenne for a little spice. Butter melted into the golden toast, and the bacon had the ideal ratio of crispy edges to delectable pockets of fat. For someone who despised cooking for himself, he felt proud of the quality meal that he had prepared for Steve and could easily picture himself treating him to breakfast the morning after their first night together back in Bucky’s apartment.

_Wow_.

Because that was the next step, right? After the show, they would both be returning to their homes and finding a way to fit each other into their lives. Bucky would gladly visit him in L.A. for a weekend, but with catching up on work and keeping his clients, how often could he make those trips? Being thousands of miles apart, he practically needed an entire day devoted to travel. That wasn’t a cheap flight, either. Sure, he could accumulate some flight miles to redeem, but those roundtrip ticket prices would add up over the span of a year. He could probably rearrange his budget to accommodate those trips, but could Steve?

Before his internal questions spiraled into uncontrollable worry, second-guessing every decision that he had made over the past weeks, Bucky remembered that he was working on a time limit. He could worry about managing the logistics of their relationship in the real world later. _Now_ , he needed to rejoin Steve in their bed, feed him breakfast, and start making his birthday wishes come true.

Bucky carried the tray into the bedroom as soon as the lights turned on. Focusing intently on not spilling the coffee, he ignored the others and their endearing looks and quiet _aw_ ’s. As he sat on the edge of the bed, Steve’s eyes slowly cracked open at the dip in the mattress. Bucky watched him glance down at the tray, eyes widening but lids still heavy. “What’s all this?” Steve asked, voice deep and gruff from sleep.

Running his fingers through the front of Steve’s messy hair, Bucky placed a kiss on his forehead. “Happy birthday, Steve.”

Steve’s smile appeared a bit crooked and tired, but it was perfect, nonetheless.

Putting a slight delay in the plan, Steve wasn’t the only person to hear Bucky’s birthday wishes. “Wait, it’s Steve’s birthday?” Thor asked.

At the same time, Maria asked, “Whose birthday?”

Naturally, someone started the song, and before he realized it, Bucky was singing the last line of a slightly off-key “Happy Birthday.” By the end of the final note, Steve’s face flushed pink, and he casually shrugged off the cheers and applause. “Thanks, guys.” More personally, he pulled Bucky to his side, maneuvering the tray between them, and mumbled against his temple, “And thank _you_ , boyfriend. This is beyond necessary. You really didn’t have to do this.”

Bucky shook his head but leaned into his kiss, quick but meaningful. “Please. It was no trouble.”

“Well, it looks incredible,” Steve said and gave him another peck. “Share it with me?”

“Only if you insist.”

“Oh, I insist.”

Bucky couldn’t say no to that offer, and he definitely couldn’t say no to a third kiss.

When he took his first bite, Steve let out a moan that made Bucky’s skin tingle. “Bucky, this is so good. You’re the absolute best, baby.”

Bucky let out his own embarrassing giggle when Steve nuzzled his face against his shoulder. “You deserve the best.”

As Steve raised the fork to Bucky’s mouth, while Bucky fed Steve pieces of bacon and toast, Bucky didn’t even register how cheesy and sickeningly romantic this was. But he didn’t care. All that mattered was making Steve happy, giving him a great birthday, which he seemed to be doing a good job of so far, tasting it on their shared coffee-breath.

Steve wiped his mouth with a napkin after they cleared the plate. “That was awesome, Buck,” he gushed, fully awake and beaming. “You’re so special to me that I don’t even know how to describe it. You really are the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for.”

The compliments made his insides feel warm and fuzzy, as if he was glowing, but Bucky refused to lose sight of his main goal. Smirking, he lowered his voice. “If you think I’m the best only for cooking you eggs and bacon, just wait for the rest of the day.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve’s eyelids grew heavy again, but this time, its cause had nothing to do with sleep. “What’s happening the rest of the day?”

“Well,” Bucky started slowly, “after cleaning up the dishes, getting my hands all nice and soapy, I think I’m gonna hop in the shower and get the rest of me wet.”

“Yeah? And is this your way of inviting me to join you? To help you with that?”

Knowing his answer right away, Bucky still paused, as if to consider his tempting offer before replying with certainty. “Not yet.”

“Not _yet_ ,” Steve repeated, cocking his head to the side. “Alright, then. And after your shower?”

Bucky dropped him a wink and stood from the bed. “You’ll find out.”

With Phase 2 complete, Bucky had to admit that he was bluffing about the rest of his plan. He knew how he wanted the day to end, but as for the time between breakfast and the grand finale? He was leaving it to chance. Thankfully, his saving grace came in the form of a text sent to Steve’s phone after he joined him out on the pool deck. Raising his sunglasses to read it to himself, Steve laughed before telling the others. “Steve, on behalf of your dearest coworkers, please accept this message as us wishing you a happy birthday, since we can no longer speak to you as friends until six months after the end of the show. Tonight, we will be throwing you all a party to celebrate the Fourth of July and the 28th year of life of one of our most influential producers.”

As opposed to cursing them out only a few days prior, Bucky said a silent ‘thank you’ to all of Steve’s coworkers. The excited anticipation of a party was exactly what everyone needed after the forced separation and a difficult recoupling.

With no other instructions or activities given to them before the party, everyone gathered on the turf beside the pool, arranged in a squiggly circle of beanbag chairs. Someone suggested that they play a game (“Maybe charades?”), and someone else suggested that they split their teams, mixing partners. Bucky hated to leave Steve’s side, but as long as he was on the same team as Riley, which he was, Bucky was fine with the idea.

Almost predictably, the game quickly descended into utter madness. It started out completely innocent, reenacting scenes from famous movies for the other team to guess. Wanda and Carol chased each other around the pool in an epic _Star Wars_ lightsaber battle that ended with Wanda hopping onto a deckchair to get the high ground. Afterward, Sam and Steve faced each other on their stomachs on the ground, reaching out with their arms outstretched and silently calling out to each other to never let go; despite the imaginary door obviously being wide enough, Sam still dipped into the water, pretending to sink away.

In the next few rounds, somehow the category of beloved PG-13-rated movies had become mistranslated into debauched X-rated movies with Bucky receiving a lapdance from Riley that he never asked for, wanted, or needed, seeing a whole lot of pale and slowly-gyrating ass, while Scott made it rain make-believe singles above them.

They collectively decided to pull the plug on the game when Thor’s autoerotic asphyxiation seemed to cross a line.

As quickly as it started, the game ended, and they seamlessly transitioned into sharing things that they missed from back home. It was amazing how much they could miss from the regular, boring, mundane life. A change of scenery, taking a walk through a park or through a shopping center or through a damn grocery store. Taking a drive – or for the city-dwellers, hopelessly sitting in traffic. Even going to work.

Bucky could definitely relate to that last one. He would gladly take hundred-page contracts, clear-cut estate distributions, and facts and figures that only required the black ink and white paper from his printer over the horrific gray areas of confronting his emotions and feelings head-on any day, any week, any month, any _year_.

But, looking across the group, Bucky found the blue eyes that had been trained on him for the entirety of the afternoon. He met them with his own, and he almost felt surprised to see the depth of Steve’s. The _darkness_. That bright crystal only appeared as a thin ring around a deep abyss that conveyed an emotion and feeling that Bucky had yet to see manifested in his eyes. It was a raw and unabashed hunger that they had only satiated in the dark. Now, Steve was bearing it proudly for all of the others to see in the daylight, but he masked it carefully as passing glances that remained burned in Bucky’s skin like a brand.

_Fuck_ , Bucky wanted to wear those marks proudly.

The longing looks from afar continued into the evening after the party started. There was nothing truly special about this ‘party’ in comparison to the others: they were given a basket of champagne with sparklers and shitty pop music blaring over speakers.

It was nothing that either of them would miss.

Feeling his skin blistering from Steve’s gaze, Bucky tipped his head to the side, nodding to the house, when no one else was looking. _Come with me_ , Bucky said through his gesture alone, playing a new game of charades.

The smirk that he received told him, _Sure_.

They passed Riley on their way to the bedroom through the kitchenette, and he raised his glass to him in a mock salute. “Happy birthday, Steven.”

As the others stayed outside, drinking and dancing, Steve followed in Bucky’s trail through the bedroom, down the hallway, past the living room, into the foyer, and up the staircase. “Where are we going?” Steve asked, a lilting laugh to his voice, when they reached the middle landing of the stairs.

“You’ll find out,” Bucky said and pulled him up the final steps without looking back at him.

When they entered the bathroom, their positions changed. As soon as the door closed, Steve shoved Bucky against it, grabbing him by the lapels of his daisy shirt and slamming him against the hard wood. Pace rushed and frantic, roughly and haphazardly, Steve crashed their mouths together and attempted to cover Bucky’s body with his own. He moved his hands from Bucky’s shirt to either side of his head, palms flat against the door, caging him in and pinning him against it.

Steve graciously gave them a moment to catch their breath, and Bucky took the opportunity of the brief pause to note with a pleased grin that Phase 3 was going better than he had planned.

“When I said this morning that you’re the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for,” Steve began and punctuated the start of his words with a harsh kiss against his throat, “I change my mind. You’re the fucking worst.”

Bucky could only chuckle in response, tilting his head back as much as he could against the door to allow Steve to move to the other side of his neck, lips pressing hard into his throbbing pulse-point.

“A good boyfriend,” Steve continued and nipped at the sensitive skin, “wouldn’t tease me all day like you have. Wouldn’t leave me half-hard for _hours_ with nothing to do about it.”

Groaning, Bucky felt the proof of that sentiment rut against his thigh. He slipped his hand between them, starting at Steve’s chest before dropping lower and lower. When he heard Steve’s breath hitch, he leaned into him. “Let me do something about it now, then.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out along his collar, practically a plea.

As much as he wanted to relish in the sound of his pathetic whines, Bucky felt the same desperation coiling in the pit of his stomach. Sparing a glance at the mirror to his right, he saw the deep, red flush that adorned both of their faces which only made him more embarrassed, knowing that anyone could walk in at any time. He reached behind him and locked the door by feel alone.

Steve pulled away from sucking a light bruise on his neck when he heard the click of the lock. “Not supposed to do that.”

“Not supposed to do this either,” Bucky said and tore off their mic’s, tossing them onto the counter and pushing him further into the room.

“Well, we can if we’re…” Steve started to explain before Bucky stopped them in front of the shower. “ _Ah_.”

Bucky smirked and held the glass door open for him. “You’re finally putting together the pieces of my master plan.”

“No cameras, either.”

“Mhm.”

Steve hesitated before stepping over the threshold. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Embracing the short change of pace, Bucky captured his lips in a sweet kiss, smiling when they pulled apart. “I’ve been dreaming about doing this since the first day we met.”

The approval was all Steve needed to pull Bucky into the shower stall with him, kicking off their shoes and sending them halfway across the bathroom. Bucky laughed freely at the urgency of the action. Undressing proved to be a bit more of a challenge with their hands scrambling to grab hold of each other in any way possible. Bucky’s fingers slipped on the buttons of Steve’s shirt, and Steve simply skipped the buttons and tugged Bucky’s shirt over his head before tossing it over the glass door. Once Steve’s joined his on the floor, Bucky couldn’t help fondling Steve’s bare chest, squeezing the smooth muscle and earning a delightful moan in response. Reluctantly, Bucky dropped his hands to make quick work of his own pants and underwear in almost one movement – _damn skinny jeans_.

Before he could give his boyfriend a real opportunity to appreciate him fully nude, Bucky fell to his knees and undid the button on Steve’s jeans. He pulled down the zipper and wasted no time shoving them down to his ankles. Eye-level with his crotch, Bucky gasped at the remarkable sight. Obviously, he had felt it against his thigh or pressed against the swell of his ass; he had held it in his hand in the dark. But seeing the outline of Steve’s cock straining against the fabric, _leaking_ against the fabric of his white briefs for the first time was a nearly religious experience. It was large, massive compared to most, and it was thick and it deserved to be worshipped.

And, _oh_ , Bucky planned to do just that.

Leaning forward, Bucky pressed his lips to the damp spot at the tip, panting out hot, needy breaths. His tongue escaped his mouth and slowly lapped at it, desperately needing a taste as if his life depended on it. He groaned when he got it. “Oh, Steve,” he huffed out. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this. I want it. I need it. _Now_.”

“Buck, please,” Steve moaned, falling back against the marble wall when Bucky started pressing open-mouth kisses up his shaft through the cotton material.

Finally, for both of them, Bucky held his breath as he peeled down his briefs, springing forth Steve’s proud erection, and helped Steve step out of them. Bucky stood to toss them and his pants out of the stall and finally turned on the shower – not fully hot, knowing damn well that the glass would fog even without the highest temperature. Immediately, Bucky sunk back down to his knees, blocking the warm spray with his back, and prepared himself to praise Steve’s cock. Seeing Steve take himself into his hand, stroking it lazily to bring himself to full hardness, made Bucky’s mouth water. He licked his lips and reassessed the size. It had been a little while since he had done this, and _well_ , there was nothing little about Steve.

He decided that what he lacked in well-practiced finesse, he could surely make up for with enthusiasm.

He steadied himself with a shaky breath and started by sucking the gorgeous tip, flared red with desire, into his mouth. He circled it with his tongue before laving at the slit and savoring the salty taste of pre-come that flooded his taste buds. At the same time, Steve took advantage of the new audible-cover of streaming water to let out a shameless moan that rattled off the glass, while his whole body quaked, pushing himself further into Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky gladly accepted more and eagerly inched forward. When he felt Steve’s cock near the back of his throat, Bucky willed himself not to gag. He reminded himself to breathe through his nose, to enjoy the natural musk of the coarse hair, and to relax his throat, swallowing in the process. Steve showed his visceral support by moaning again, and Bucky hazarded a glance upward, thrilled to see Steve’s face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, eyes closed tight.

The reassurance that he was doing alright encouraged Bucky to take him in even further. Closing his own eyes, he gave himself over to the wave that crashed over him, throwing himself into the abyss of doing whatever it would take to make Steve see those Fourth of July fireworks.

Sucking in as much of Steve as possible, Bucky paused for a moment to adjust and appreciate the hefty weight on his tongue. Then, he started to move. He ran his tongue up the full length of Steve’s cock, paying particular attention to the sensitive spot just below the head, exactly where he, himself, loved to be touched. Bobbing his head, he sucked and swirled his tongue, wet and sloppy and too fast to be coordinated, but Steve seemed to enjoy it nonetheless, digging his fingers into Bucky’s hair. Bucky couldn’t help but moan when he gave it a less-than-gentle tug, noise muffled with his mouth full of cock, knowing that the vibrations would go directly into Steve’s shaft. Confirming that, Steve gasped out a sharp, “Oh!” as his hips jerked forward.

_Yes, yes, yes,_ Bucky wanted to say but couldn’t, but _oh_ , he needed to. He pulled off with a pop, leaving a trail of saliva connected from his bottom lip to the tip of Steve’s dick. Looking up through his eyelashes, voice hoarse, he pleaded, “Fuck my face.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Steve said in response, while Bucky watched his eyes roll back into his head.

As Steve aligned himself, holding Bucky’s head in place by his hair, Bucky opened his mouth, more than ready. Steve started out slow with shallow and experimental pumps of his hips, while Bucky provided the suction to make him grunt and gasp. Gradually, Steve increased the pace until he was thrusting into Bucky’s mouth recklessly with his fingers twisted in his hair to shove him forward.

And Bucky loved it.

He loved every second of being treated like Steve’s play-thing. More than happy to be _used_ by Steve to chase his pleasure. Content to just be a warm mouth for Steve to pound his cock into. He loved the thought of his throat being sore the next day, knees bruised and lips swollen, as long as Steve could crest his peak. He loved so clearly being marked by Steve, envisioning him coming down his throat but also across his face, dripping onto his chest for all to see. He loved knowing that the other Islanders would soon be using this same shower, standing on the tile where Bucky kneeled under the spray getting his face mercilessly fucked.

Steve appeared to love it too, as his mouth rattled off the entire time, spouting meaningless filth. “Yeah, baby. Fuckin’ like that, don’t you? Suckin’ me off like you were made to take it. _Oh!_ Fuck yeah, take it, Buck. So wet for me. So hot. So fuckin’ _tight_ – oh!” The babbling and dirty talk only made Bucky suck harder, taking him deeper, which soon shifted the pitch of Steve’s voice. “Fuck, I’m gonna, I – oh, I’m close.”

Knowing that Steve intended that as a warning, Bucky reached up to cradle Steve’s balls in one hand, holding them carefully but applying light pressure. With the other, he reached behind them and used the pads of his fingertips to push against his perineum, teasing his prostate from the outside. “Fuck!” Steve cried out at the feeling, hips stuttering.

Only a few more haphazard thrusts and a bit more pressure pushed Steve over the edge, and he came with a low groan, resonating deep in his chest. Bucky attempted to swallow every drop of come that coated his throat and filled his mouth, reveling in Steve’s taste. When Steve pulled out, Bucky licked off the spurts that dribbled down his chin.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve panted, catching his breath.

Bucky nodded in agreement, needing a moment to steady himself, feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions, mostly pride and self-satisfaction. Denying him that moment, Steve hauled him up from his knees and pulled him into a tight embrace, wrapping his shoulders and meeting his mouth with his own. He slipped his tongue inside, tasting himself, and Bucky groaned. His neglected cock brushed against Steve’s hip. As sparks flashed before his eyes, Bucky was reminded of the fact that while he was solely focused on reaching Steve’s pleasure, he hadn’t spared a single thought to his own painfully-hard erection, throbbing as Steve rubbed himself against it and water rained down onto it.

“That was incredible,” Steve said and kept their forwards pressed against each other, breaths mingling with each other’s and the steam. “Now, let me take care of _you_.”

Bucky shook his head. “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

Practically letting out a growl, Steve nipped his already-tender bottom lip, voice low, stern and commanding. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you dare say that. It’s _my_ birthday, and I deserve to get what I fucking want. And what I want right now is to make you feel as good as you just made me feel.”

Well, it was frankly rude to deny Steve of that birthday wish.

“May I?” Steve asked, running his hand down Bucky’s chest.

“Yes, please.” Bucky nodded and closed his eyes. At the feeling of Steve’s long fingers circling his cock, leaning into him for support, Bucky gasped. “Happy birthday, Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Steve, indeed 😂
> 
> There we have it: more of my breakfast-is-the-best-meal propaganda, a game of charades, and our first dip into E-rated territory 😅
> 
> I hope you enjoyed Bucky and Steve taking their physical relationship to this next level. If you happened to join this story just for the promise of explicit content, wow, congratulations on making it through almost 40 chapters with over 100,000 words and a whole damn journey to make it to the first of one of those scenes 😂I think you'll agree with me, though, that this was the most appropriate time for this moment when they can finally communicate effectively; in no way should these two have been attempting to discuss such intimate matters when they struggled to even say that they /liked/ each other in the beginning.
> 
> Again, I truly appreciate all of the support on this story, but I would like to ask you to please not comment on this particular chapter if you are not 18+. Purely for my own mindfulness, I feel much more comfortable posting and discussing this type of content as an adult with other adults. With that being said, if you ARE in that 18+ group, I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! As you can tell, this is my first time ever writing anything explicit like this, but I think 'smut' can be such a special, beautiful thing and I'm really excited to join that tradition in fanfiction. So, if you have a moment (and, again, are at least 18 or older - forgive my anxiety), please let me know what you think! 😊
> 
> 🎧"Moment's Silence (Common Tongue)" - Hozier
> 
> (I mean, is there a better song about oral sex than this one? 😂Seriously though, Hozier is such a fantastic artist, and this song is absolutely gorgeous if you've never heard it before)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...The morning after 😉


	40. Chapter 40

**Episode 40**

Bucky hated falling asleep with wet hair, but after a shower like _that_ , he couldn’t complain. Smiling as he rested his left cheek against his pillow, he recalled the moving images that were still exquisitely vivid in his mind, as Steve pressed light kisses along the back of his neck. Steve made good of his promise to take care of him, forcing Bucky cling to him like a floating device and silence his scream by biting into Steve’s shoulder, leaving red imprints that would probably bruise and match the blatant hickeys on his neck. They spent the afterglow exchanging unhurried kisses until the water grew noticeably colder and then rushed to actually clean themselves. Enthusiastically, Steve accepted the job of washing Bucky’s hair, massaging his rose-scented shampoo into his scalp for far longer than necessary, almost refusing to remove his fingers until the water felt like ice.

They dried each other with fluffy towels before changing into their haphazardly-discarded clothes. Bucky found his shirt in one of the sinks, while one of Steve’s shoes landed on the countertop. Standing side by side in the mirror, they attempted to smooth out the wrinkles as best as they could but knew damn well that their damp hair would give away the secret. (Riley being downstairs, as Bucky had asked, blocking anyone from going up to the bathroom may have also given something away.)

Regardless of if they knew before, the other Islanders _definitely_ knew when they stepped back onto the deck, finding everyone waiting in the kitchenette. “Hey!” they chorused.

“There they are!”

Steve immediately blushed, face turning pink, as he turned his gaze from their knowing grins and pointed smirks to the cake that sat alone in the center of the island. “We were going to get you to blow out your candles,” Riley started to explain.

“But, hey, if something else was getting blown…” Thor interjected.

“We would never want to interrupt,” Sam finished, chuckling and nudging Steve with his elbow.

Resisting the urge to crawl under a rock and remain there until the end of time or the catastrophic death of the universe, Bucky stood tall, pretending to be unfazed, while Steve buried his face against his shoulder with an embarrassed groan.

With his face now a bright red, Steve pulled himself away to meet the others, who were laughing lightheartedly, to stand before his cake after Carol was trusted to light the candles. “I’d say make a wish,” she said, lilt to her voice telling them that the teasing was far from over, “but I think you got it already.”

Steve met Bucky’s eyes from across the counter with a sweet expression that melted him to his core, just like the wax that was slowly starting to drip, before blowing out the candles in one breath. He handed Bucky the first slice of a cake, a corner piece with an excessive amount of buttercream icing ( _the best!_ ). The chocolate and vanilla combination tasted even sweeter in his mouth knowing that the others knew exactly what they had gotten up to in their absence. It made the cake taste different – a little _dirty_.

After brushing his teeth, settling into bed, and feeling Steve’s lips on his back, Bucky could still taste that sweetness. With wet hair, he fell asleep savoring it.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Bucky woke up in the morning to find Steve having made them breakfast this time: their respective coffee orders with a big bowl of assorted fruit with two spoons. Bucky pecked him on the cheek as a thank you before digging in, popping a strawberry into his mouth. Lying back against the headboard, they sipped their coffee and fed each other grapes and pieces of pineapple, reminding Bucky of their most recent date. The date when Steve asked him to be his _boyfriend_.

Ugh, he could have lived happily in those memories for the rest of the day, but those plans were interrupted in a nontraditional way.

Wanda entered the bedroom, fully dressed in a pretty purple blouse on top of a pair of nice black jeans. Behind her, she wheeled a suitcase. “Hi, everyone,” she called out quietly to get their attention, and they turned to her with silent gasps of realization. “When all of you are ready, can I speak to you outside?”

No one hesitated before getting out of bed, exchanging worried-but-understanding looks and hurrying to throw on t-shirts and shorts. Soft, idle chatter filled the air, while Bucky combed his hair back with his fingers.

Soon, they gathered around the unlit fire pit, falling into their practically-assigned seats, Bucky beside Steve in the center next to Sam and Riley who were holding hands. Standing in front of the fire pit, Wanda faced them, appearing slightly nervous but confident in the decision that she had made.

“So, I don’t think this will come as much of a surprise to most of you,” she began with, and Bucky instinctively held his breath, recognizing that the last time they had heard this tone of voice was with Clint. “Where we are in the season, I think it’s safe to say that there won’t be many new Islanders introduced, if any, and that’s okay. This has been an experience that I will never forget. I’ve had the chance to get to know eighteen awesome, incredible, unique people, and I’ve been coupled up with two of them. You all have been so unbelievably kind to me throughout this entire process, and I cannot thank you enough."

Thor and Scott both looked down at the ground, as she continued. “I’ve been feeling this way for a few days now, and I don’t want you to think that this is anyone’s fault. I may not have found the love of my life, but I did find friends that I’ll keep for the rest of my life. I learned a lot about myself too, how I value myself and what I believe in when it comes to finding love. Frankly, I think that’s more important. At this point, as I’ve talked to some of you privately about, I am perfectly content with accepting that this is my time to go, and I hope you all can respect that decision.”

For a few moments, no one responded, allowing her words to remain in the air, processing them.

Even though he hadn’t been part of the select few that she talked with privately, Bucky could have predicted her decision to leave. She was always introverted, staying on the outskirts of the main groups, but after seeing Scott return from Casa Amor with a new partner, she became even more so. At first, she had Carol and Val to surround herself with while the other couples reconnected or got to know each other. Then, the Newlywed challenge happened, demonstrating that despite being separated for almost two weeks, Carol and Val still knew each other better than the two label-official couples. Their night together alone in the Hideaway perhaps further sparked that rekindling, which left Wanda as the only person without a partner, using the show’s definition or not. It truly was no surprise that she wanted to leave, given a chance to explain herself by doing it on her terms.

Carol and Val started the group hug that they soon all joined. With heavy sighs, everyone followed her to the entryway to give their final goodbyes. Her hug with Scott lasted the longest, and taking advantage of his hug, Thor lifted her off the ground to make her laugh. Once everyone received a hug, she turned her back to the door to face them one last time.

With a smile, she said, “I mean, hey, worst comes to worst, I can build my own robot boyfriend, right?”

They applauded and cheered as they watched her wheel her suitcase down the cobblestone, head held high.

“Damn,” Bucky sighed as they climbed onto their favorite daybed, curling into Steve’s side. “I wasn’t expecting that today.”

Steve shook his head, chin brushing against Bucky’s forehead. “Me neither.”

“Is what she said true? Are they done with bringing in new people?”

“Probably. If they were to bring in someone new this late in the game, they’d have to be really special. At this point, they’re more likely to focus on weeding out the weaker couples until we’re down to the final four.”

“Jeez. It’s really getting serious, huh?”

Steve’s lighthearted scoff felt cool against his hair. “Well, it’s still a competition, and we only have about three weeks left until the public decides who gets the 50k.”

_Three weeks_. God, Bucky hadn’t even planned on staying here for longer than three _days_ , but that was obviously before the whole boyfriend thing. Now, the thought of going home, being eliminated from the show where he was building his relationship with Steve? That thought was terrifying. And then there was the completely different thought of not being eliminated, staying for the rest of the show, and making it to the finale, which led to the exciting-yet-intimidating question of, “Do you think we could win this thing?”

Steve tightened his grasp around Bucky’s waist, taking a deep breath. “Well, I would never want to jinx it, but I’d say we have a decent shot. Anyone who’s already using the boyfriend or girlfriend labels has a pretty good chance of making it. If I was still producing, I would definitely look at us as strong contenders for the final two couples.”

Bucky tried not to blush, remaining composed, as he thought through it rationally. “And if we won, we’d split the fifty thousand?”

“Correct.”

“Wow.” Twenty-five thousand dollars was nothing to scoff about, especially earning it in the two months that he developed his relationship, but there was still one caveat. “We’d have to pay taxes on it.”

Making him flinch, Steve snorted in Bucky’s ear before burying his laughter in his hair. “Can you not simply enjoy the idea of winning twenty-five _thousand_ dollars just by spending the summer being my boyfriend?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, not afraid to jab back. “Does that mean you’re breaking up with me as soon as the show’s over?”

That question made Steve stop laughing, but he still spoke in a teasing tone. “Well, wasn’t that the plan we came up with on our first date?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Bucky chuckled, feeling as if that night had been a lifetime ago. “How could I forget that you’ve been taking advantage of me this whole time?”

Lips pressed against his ear, Steve dropped his voice. “You didn’t seem to complain about me taking advantage of you last night.”

Bucky shook off his shiver, resting his head back down on Steve’s chest and pinching his side. _No_ , Bucky couldn’t really complain in the slightest. After a few comfortably-silent moments, while Steve stroked his hand through his hair, Bucky asked another, more serious, question, “And if we don’t win, you’d still happy?”

The hand in his hair froze, stuck in place, before moving up to his chin, lightly encouraging him to turn his head and look Steve in the face. “Bucky, are you kidding me? Of course, I’d still be happy. We could be eliminated tomorrow, and I’d be more than thrilled to board that plane, knowing that I’d be going home with you by my side. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from this. I could care less about the money, as long as I can be with _you_.”

Feeling his breath trapped in his chest, Bucky had no idea how to reply and settled on closing the space between them in an ardent kiss, realizing that all he ever wanted from this experience, too, was precisely that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a bittersweet one today but an important one nonetheless.
> 
> I love Wanda and I hate to see her go, but at the end of the day, this is still a competition. I think she realized herself that she likely wouldn't make it much further in the show, but at least, she got out on her own terms, rather than by the producer's. (And I hope you liked that little nod to Vision 😉)
> 
> And then the future! It's so tough to talk about the future, especially in the context of a relationship, so I am very proud of our boys starting to think about how they feel about the end of the season.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kind words! We're 2/3's of the way through, and it's been incredible seeing the reaction that this story has gotten along the way. There truly aren't enough words to express the gratitude I feel toward everyone who has supported this story 😊
> 
> Next time on Love Island...💋💍🍰 (That's it, that's your hint 😂)


	41. Chapter 41

**Episode 41**

“Buck?”

“Mm?”

“We gotta get up.”

“Mm.”

“Someone got a text.”

“Mm.”

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve sighed, resorting to nudging his shoulder until his eyes opened. “C’mon, someone got a text.”

Groaning and not appreciating being woken from his nap, Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know, I know. I heard the first time. I’m just pretending it’s not real.”

“I’m not sure that’s how this works,” Steve said, eyes almost pitiful but affectionate.

“Says you,” Bucky grumbled, tossing his legs over the side of the daybed to find his sandals.

Steve slung his arm around his neck as they crossed the deck to meet the others on the turf beside the pool. Hope had the honor of reading out the text this time. “Islanders, it’s time to find out what your fellow competitors really think of you in today’s game: Kiss, Marry, Pie! #Straw-Marry-Rhubarb #Lemon-Mer-Dang”

[ _Easily our best puns yet, if I may say so myself, and I will! Okay, so this is another favorite party game that we’ve twisted into a fun-filled, afternoon activity for our favorite Islanders. One by one, each Islander will first kiss an Islander of their choice. Then, they will propose to a different Islander with a ring that I assume our props department won from a gumball machine. Lastly, they will throw a pie in another Islander’s face – A.K.A. they will throw a paper plate covered in whipped cream in another Islander’s face. Good stuff, right?_ ]

The producers didn’t bother moving them to the other deck that they usually used for the challenges, keeping them in one line close to the kitchenette, so that in between rounds, an intern (poor Peter) could run down a “pie” and the previously-pied Islander could run up and wash their face in the sink. By doing so, no one had to smell the delightful Yankee Candle scent of rotting milk in the sun, so it was truly a win for everyone involved.

Chosen to go first, Bruce demonstrated the process. “I feel like this game is the perfect opportunity to kiss someone I’ll never kiss again,” he explained, standing in front of them and looking over the line. “So, since we got along so well when I joined the villa, let’s do this, Thor.”

The others cheered for their chaste kiss in which Thor raised him up to his lips by cupping his face, and both grinned when they separated. A producer handed Bruce the fake ring, consisting of a cheap 'gold' band with an obnoxiously-large, plastic diamond. “I think it’s only fair that I marry my incredible partner,” he said, taking a knee and raising the ring up to Maria, who pretended to gasp. “Maria, will you please accept this ring?”

“Of course, I will,” she said, offering her hands to help him stand and offering him a kiss after he gave her the ring. The fake gemstone covered half her finger when she flashed it to the camera.

After Peter handed him the first whipped cream “pie,” Bruce stepped back to survey the rest of the line again. “I don’t really have any beef with anyone, so I might as well go with my biggest competition, which would be the strongest couple here.”

Bucky glanced at Riley to his left, assuming that Bruce must have been talking about the first couple to be official and the only two saying ‘I love you’ to each other.

“Don’t take this personally, Sam,” Bruce said, confirming just that.

Sam accepted the pie to his face without comment, and the others watched with their jaws dropped and eyes wide, as Bruce pulled the plate away. Riley covered his mouth with his hands before giggling at the sight of his boyfriend’s face covered in whipped cream. Licking his lips, Sam broke the silence with a laugh of his own, encouraging the rest of the others to join in. Riley swiped a finger through the whipped cream and brought it back to his mouth. “Sweeter than sugar, sugarbear,” he decided with a wink.

While Sam wiped his face off in the kitchenette, Bruce took his place in the line for Maria to take her turn once Sam returned. Also choosing to kiss a friend that she formed during the Casa Amor period, Maria gave Jane a quick peck. She reciprocated Bruce’s proposal with a proposal of her own and pondered her choice of who to pie before choosing Thor for kissing her partner. Thor, however, didn’t seem to mind the whipped cream on his face, claiming to have been in this position more than once, which no one pressed for details, assuming the story would be related to the fact that they learned about him in that first challenge.

[ _Something about the magic number 50, I believe._ ]

Still, Thor got his revenge, giving his pie to Maria after proposing to Jane and giving Sam a surprisingly-passionate kiss that made Riley fan himself with his hand. Jane politely returned Maria’s brief kiss and Thor’s proposal before less-politely but still-jokingly tossing her pie in Bruce’s face for choosing to kiss Thor during his turn.

The producers gave Hope and Scott the next turn. Hope kissed her Casa Amor pal Angie and got down on one knee in front of Scott, shaking her head. “One week is plenty of time to decide this, right?”

“Obviously,” Scott said, accepting the ring and pulling her up for a kiss.

Pie in hand, Hope faced the line with a smirk. “I don’t really have a good reason to pie anyone, but something about seeing Riley Jones’ face covered in whipped cream seems like the right thing to do.”

Riley gasped, covering his face with his hands. “You wouldn’t!”

Hope lifted the paper plate. “I would.”

“I know your mother!” Riley cried out in a last-minute attempt to change her mind, but a pile of whipped cream silenced him. Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the model’s face coated in a thick layer of ice cream topping. The whipped cream covered his signature freckles, and his hazel eyes peeked out from behind the cream, blinking in disbelief. Disgusted, he wiped his face, covering his hands, and shook his head. “Uncalled for. I’m tellin’ your mama.”

After Riley returned with a clean face, Scott took his turn, kissing Thor for the hell of it, marrying Hope, and pie-ing himself, “Because I’m not here to make enemies.”

Carol and Val weren’t afraid to make some statements, though, bending the rules to kiss and marry each other before getting back at the ex-partners that left them for someone else with Carol choosing Maria and Val choosing Thor to pie. The air between them all was still lighthearted with no one truly meaning to offend.

Then, Peggie and Angie were given their turn. Angie started by kissing Hope as a thank you for kissing her. She knelt on the deck to propose to Peggie, who beamed down at her, eyes crinkled, with that radiant red smile. When she was handed the pie, Angie balanced the plate on her palm in a classic waitress pose. An almost devious glint appeared in her sparkling green eyes, as she looked down the line. “I should really be thanking this Islander for giving me the opportunity to know the amazing woman that I guess I’m now engaged to, but I think he still deserves this."

Steve didn’t appear too surprised to see Angie stop in front of him, bracing himself by squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation. With a silent and instinctive gasp, Bucky watched Angie shove the pie against Steve’s face without hesitation, smearing around the whipped cream. When she pulled the plate away, a dollop of whipped cream fell from his nose, and Bucky had to laugh. Whipped cream clung to his golden eyelashes when he opened his eyes, making Bucky desperately wish to wipe it away. (But the image of Steve’s face covered in white cream was also a little provocative and something that Bucky didn’t need to mull over for too long in the current setting.)

When he returned, Steve was chuckling and gave Angie a brief, no-harm-no-foul hug.

Once Peggy was given the okay to take her turn, Bucky held his breath, suddenly nervous. He highly doubted that she would kiss Steve, and she proved his suspicions correct by kissing Carol for fun. As everyone expected, she popped the question to Angie, happily pulling her into a tight embrace and happy kiss, but when she was handed the pie, her demeanor changed slightly. “I would say that this is all water under the bridge now, and there are no hard feelings,” she mused, taking her time before stopping in front of Steve and Bucky with a smirk. “But I’m fairly certain there are millions of people dying to see me do this right now.”

The whipped cream was uncomfortably cool when it hit his face. Bucky saw it coming with enough time to close his eyes, but there was nothing that could have prepared him for the oily sugar-spray that coated his skin like the worst face mask in the world. (This would definitely not be good for his pores.)

As the whipped cream dripped down his face, collecting in his hands, Bucky realized that the other Islanders remained silent, as if unsure how to react. He let out a surprised scoff to let them know that it was perfectly fine to laugh. “Totally fair,” he told Peggy after tentatively opening his eyes to find her still standing before him.

Bucky felt more than thrilled to wash his face in the kitchenette sink, but when he inhaled, he still smelled the whipped cream in his nose. _Gross_.

When he was given his turn next along with every right to retaliate, Bucky actually had a different target in mind. But, first, he had to kiss someone who wasn’t his boyfriend and propose to Steve – _wasn’t that a trip?_

For his kiss, he briefly considered Thor, recalling how natural it was to dance with him at the prom and how jealous it made Steve. Or, a less risky choice came to mind, as well. “I feel like this Islander is practically my brother-in-law now, so I don’t think I’ll offend anyone by kissing him.”

Sam grinned when Bucky approached him, as both of them glanced at Riley, who gave his approval with a shrug. Feeling no magic spark, Bucky pressed a quick peck to his lips before turning his attention to Steve, who gave no particular response.

After thanking the producer who gave him the ring, Bucky realized in surprise that holding the cheap plastic brought a rush of nerves that flooded through him that were amplified when he knelt on the ground. He chose the right knee to hit the deck, but was it supposed to be the left? Did it matter? Deciding that it didn’t, he shifted his weight further into his right knee and planted his left foot flat. He knew for certain that the hand he needed to ask for was the right one… _right?_

Obviously, this wasn’t serious, and Bucky shook his head to remember that fact.

But kneeling in front Steve who remained standing, aside from being bluntly reminded of the night before, had an incredibly sobering effect on him. Steve was his boyfriend. The man that he would be going home with, even in a not-literal-but-figurative sense, in a few weeks. The man that he would continue to build this relationship with for – ideally, _forever?_ That was the goal, right? Would this ultimately be practice for the future?

Shaking his head of _that_ fact, Bucky thought back to the issue at hand when he took Steve’s right hand in his left. He opened his mouth before realizing that he had nothing planned. Again, this wasn’t real or important, but everyone before him had a sweet, heartfelt speech. Steve deserved that too. “Steve, when you asked me to be your boyfriend, I felt things that I never knew that I could possibly feel. You made me feel like I’m truly worthy of feeling those things, and I hope you can make me feel that way for the rest of our lives. So,” he said through a sigh and took a breath before asking the next four words, “will you marry me?”

Looking down with pure fondness in his eyes, Steve didn’t reply immediately, giving Bucky the chance to process what he had said, letting it fly freely from his mouth without a second thought in the moment. Nothing had been a lie. Those sentiments were as genuine as they were almost terrifying. They were real, and they were rooted deep in his heart. And that was okay.

Steve squeezed his hand, encouraging him to stand, as he said, “Of course, Buck.”

In a huff of a laugh, Bucky released the breath that he was holding in his chest and slipped the stupid, gaudy toy-ring onto Steve’s finger before throwing his arms around his neck. The others applauded around them, but Bucky didn’t listen to them, only capable of hearing the blood rushing in his ears when he buried the side of his face in Steve’s neck. Breathing in the familiar spice of his cologne, Bucky genuinely felt at peace with being fake-engaged for this dumb game, as ridiculous as that sounded.

“Three people still gotta take their turns, babe,” Steve reminded him when Bucky made no effort to remove himself from the hug.

Of course, Steve had a point, and Bucky still had to pie someone. The choice felt heavy on the paper plate, but he knew exactly who this pie belonged to. “This Islander means the world to me, and they're probably my closest friend on the Island, aside from Steve. That doesn’t mean that they don’t completely deserve this, though, for crying on my shoulder for hours and making me second-guess their entire relationship at Casa Amor.”

Jaw dropped, Riley gaped at him. “Bucky!” When he took a step forward, Riley took a step backward. “I thought we were friends!” As he lifted the plate, Riley tried one last attempt. “I was gonna _kiss_ you!”

Bucky literally tossed the pie, which turned out to be a mistake when it landed in Riley’s hair when he turned his head before falling directly into his hands. Riley squealed and held it up, ready to throw it back to him. “Don’t you dare!”

Laughing, Bucky ducked behind Steve, a hostage Riley didn’t care about when he threw the plate anyway, flinging whipped cream at them both. The experienced producer in Steve came out when he prevented them from picking up the plate and hurling it for a third time, dragging them to the kitchenette to clean themselves off, instead.

When they returned to the pool deck, Bucky felt the nerves return, buzzing in his stomach at the realization that Steve’s turn was next. “Well,” he said with a sigh, “I’ve kissed this Islander before for a game, so what’s one more?”

He planted a reluctant kiss on Sam’s lips, and it was as uncomfortable to watch in person as it was to watch on video.

But the end of that kiss meant that he would be accepting the ring next, then kneeling on the ground in front of Bucky, and then (fake) proposing. Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat as Steve completed the first step, taking hold of the ring that had once been on his finger. When he confidently bent down on one knee, Bucky stopped breathing entirely, and when Steve started talking, he was certain that his heartrate flatlined, as well.

“Bucky Barnes, I knew that you were special to me from the very first moment that we met. Every moment that I’m with you since then further proves to me that I never want to spend another moment apart. No matter what happens at the end of the show, no matter what happens when we go back home, I hope we can spend the rest of our lives together. Marry me?”

If those were the lines of a real proposal, Bucky probably would have burst into tears, and frankly, he struggled to keep his eyes from tearing even in this stupid challenge. He kept his response light with a nod. “Let’s do it, Steve.”

The ring felt inconsequential on his finger and would probably leave a green mark on his skin if he wore it for too long, but he loved the meaning behind it nevertheless. The truth in Steve’s speech. Their smiles were a bit too wide for the kiss to be a good one, and that was fine too.

Bucky never wanted to pull away, but Steve appeared eager to be handed the pie. He walked to the other end of the line and stopped in front of one very specific person. “I’m not explaining this decision, because you know exactly what you did, Thor.”

Blushing, Bucky imagined that the others knew what Steve was referring to: the dance that even _Bucky_ had just thought of when considering his decisions. Maybe he should have gone with Thor for the kiss after all, seeing how hot under the collar Steve got when shoving the plate into his face, grinding the whipped cream into his beard, clearly letting out and working through some unresolved emotions.

“My apologies, friend,” Thor said, licking the whipped cream from his lips before tossing a wink at Bucky. “It won’t happen again.”

Steve’s glare followed him up and down the steps of the kitchenette.

Before the final round, a producer asked for the ring, and Bucky gave it up, almost immediately missing the feeling. _Wait, what?_

Borrowing his logic, Sam kissed Steve in an equally uninspired, unpassionate kiss before taking the ring and turning to Riley. Riley clasped his hands in front of his chest when Sam knelt to the ground. “Riley, I can’t believe that there was a time in my life when I didn’t know you, but after a single day together, I knew that I could never live without you. You’re my heart. You’re my soul. You’re everything that I could ever imagine my other half being. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, angel.”

He didn’t even have to ask the question before the others applauded and Riley pulled him up for a kiss, arms around his waist, holding him tight. The comically-large diamond somehow blended in with the medley of his other rings, as if it had been meant for Riley all along. Sam raised it to his mouth to give it a kiss when they separated from each other.

The tender, romantic feelings quickly gave way to something more playful when he picked up his pie. Bucky inwardly groaned when Sam set his sights on him, face already feeling oily. “Sorry, Bucky, but I wouldn’t be a very good fiancé for letting you get away with pie-ing _my_ beautiful fiancé’s face.”

Riley made a squeak at the term “fiancé” and then cackled at the whipped cream that covered Bucky’s face, yet again. (It wasn’t any better the third time around.)

Peter tried and failed to not giggle at Bucky’s reappearance in the kitchenette, which made Bucky roll his eyes when he patted his face dry with paper towels. Although, he wasn’t entirely sure there was a point when Riley would be given the last pie.

Still, Riley had two decisions to make first – the first of which was directed at Bucky. “Since you don’t deserve my kiss anymore, I’m gonna kiss my birdie, who _didn’t_ betray me.”

Borrowing Carol and Val’s rule-bending, Riley kissed Sam before staying in his place and kneeling on the ground with the ring. He blew out a quick breath and raised the ring, voice quiet and verging on completely serious. “When I joined the show, I never expected to find something real here, but I have never been so thankful to be proven wrong. You truly are a dream come true. I’m sorry that I ever doubted us, but I’m done havin’ those worries. I could very much see us settling down together, getting married, having the cutest and coolest kids in the world, and I think every step in this show is leading us down that road, even this silly, little game. I love you, Sammie, and I can’t wait to marry you for real.”

_Damn_.

If that had been a genuine proposal, it would have been absolutely perfect. The others agreed with vigorous applause, cheering when Sam swept Riley off his feet, spinning them around in their signature kiss. Rather than accepting the ring, he slipped it back onto Riley’s finger, where it seemed to belong. Riley snickered when Sam peppered a few extra kisses across his forehead.

After one final kiss on the lips, Riley’s eyes turned dark when the producer appeared on cue, paper plate in hand. Bucky sighed and held up his hands in defense. “Riley, I know you want to get me back, but trust me on this–”

Riley tilted the pie in his direction, and realizing that his begging would be fruitless, Bucky wondered how long he could outrun the model and his long legs.

He turned on his heel and decided to find out.

Sprinting down the length of the pool, Bucky heard the others cheer or whistle in addition to Riley’s footsteps as he chased after him. Bucky circled the confessions bungalow, throwing a glance over his shoulder to see Riley round the corner behind him, catching up with ease.

He decided to change tactics and ran back up the pool, back to the other Islanders, who he hoped would protect him. Instead, Sam and Peggy, the _traitors_ , grabbed hold of one of his arms, and the time that he wasted struggling to break free allowed Riley to reach them. Before he could throw the plate, Steve stepped between them, along with Val and Maria. “Don’t do it!” Carol cried out, as if the fake pie posed genuine danger.

Either not listening or not caring, Riley took aim and fired. Loaded with extra whipped cream for the final round, everyone caught some kind of collateral. Whipped cream landed on Sam’s face, in Peggy’s hair, across Steve’s chest, and down Val’s right arm. Somehow, not a single drop landed on Bucky. He intended to brag to Riley, but then–

“Oh!”

Oily wetness struck the back of Bucky’s head, clinging to his hair and dripping down his back. Looking around in shock, he found that pies were flying from almost every angle, supplied by producers on the fray to the other Islanders. Whipped cream soared through the air before hitting someone’s face or body or both. In the center of the madness, Bucky ducked, covering his head, and laughed. Reaching between the sweaty tangle of whipped cream-covered bodies, Steve’s hand found his own and held him steady while the chaos ensued.

By the end of it, everyone had whipped cream stuck in their hair, dripping from their eyebrows, and running down their arms and legs. As they attempted to fit all fourteen of them under the narrow spray of the outdoor shower, overwhelming the drain with an odd mix of water, soap, and dessert topping, Bucky realized that this very, very odd game was – in a very, very odd way – exactly what they needed.

Finally putting to rest forgotten rivalries or ill will and coming together as a sticky, greasy, sweet-smelling family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PIE! 😂
> 
> Kiss, Marry, Pie - one of my favorite challenges from the real show, obviously a network-allowed version of F*ck, Marry, Kill and always a lot of fun 😅
> 
> I hope you enjoyed another challenge (a nicer one too!), and feel free to let me know your thoughts! 😊
> 
> Also, please feel free to chat with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets, where you can reblog the story with cover art and share it with all your friends, so we can build our own little sticky, greasy, sweet-smelling Love Island family 😂
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."Whatever happens..." "Happens."


	42. Chapter 42

**Episode 42**

“I’d say that went well,” Steve said, settling onto the daybed and swiping back his damp hair.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, still smelling whipped cream every time he breathed. “Does that normally happen?”

“Big food fight at the end? Oh, yeah. Great for ratings. I was more surprised that everyone actually chose the ‘marry’ option with their partners. Half of them usually go with ‘kiss’ and propose to someone else. People usually get weird about this game.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Some people think that you should only kiss your partner in these types of challenges, since a kiss is literal but the fake proposals don’t mean anything. I’d say they have a pretty clear meaning, though.”

“Definitely. Isn’t the goal of all these relationships to get to that point in the real world?”

Steve immediately cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, is it?”

“I mean,” Bucky felt nerves tickle at his throat, rushing to explain himself, “as long as marriage is something you’re interested in. Not _you_ specifically, but in general. And not like marriage is the end-all be-all, either. It’s just a nice thought. That is, if you want it to be.”

While Bucky rambled, Steve drew circles on the back of his hand. “I think that’s a very nice idea,” he said quietly, sweetly and comfortingly.

“Really?”

“Of course. As long as it’s what my partner wants too, I’d love to get married one day. I agree that it shouldn’t be a requirement for a relationship to be considered genuine, but I think it’d be really amazing to have someone that I know will be with me forever. Someone that I can come home to every single day. Fall asleep beside every night, wake up next to in the morning. Yeah, I think that’d be awesome. Anyway,” Steve sighed, cutting himself off by shaking his head, as if thinking that he was getting carried away, “what do you think?”

Eyes wide, Bucky swallowed, wondering if Steve could feel his pulse accelerate from his thumb resting on his wrist. “What I think about marrying you?”

Steve chuckled softly and gave that pulse point a quick squeeze. “I mean, more so, in _general_ , what you think about marriage. Is that something you see yourself doing eventually?”

“Oh.”

_Duh_ ; of course, Steve wasn’t seriously talking about marrying _him_. His wet hair dripping down his back did nothing to cool the scorching fire that lit up his cheeks. Weeks ago, making up bullshit on his applications forced Bucky to confront and reevaluate his opinions on marriage. He had watched his parents’ strained relationship grow further and further detached as he and Becca grew older, barely connected by a single thread by the end. He understood that after his father had been long buried that he had married his mother not because they were passionately in love, but because it was the cultural norm. It was what they _had_ to do, and Bucky vowed to never feel the need to _have_ to commit himself to someone for the rest of his life.

If he was going to get married, it had to be special. It had to be personal. It had to be like – well, like what Steve was describing…

“I think so,” Bucky said eventually. “I think I could see myself walking down the aisle one day.”

“Cool.” Nodding his head, Steve kept his eyes low, subtle but not subtle at all, as he registered Bucky’s words. “Very cool.”

Bucky nodded back. “Yeah.”

Clearing the air, Steve chuckled. “You know what my goal was for this season as a producer?”

“What?”

“I wanted a proposal. It’s been a few years since we’ve had one, and I wanted to make it happen. I told the others that I wouldn’t accept the cash bonus for guessing the winning couple unless they were engaged by the finale.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, recalling what else he knew about Steve’s winning couple. “But you chose Nat and me?” With an automatic, mocking laugh, it clicked in Bucky’s mind. “You really thought you could’ve convinced us to get _engaged_?”

Steve lifted his hands in defense. “On paper, it sounded like the perfect story. Childhood best friends coming onto the show together, both in search of love. How beautiful if they found it with each other? Then, with your history, it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch for one of you to pop the question.”

Scoffing, Bucky shook his head, almost repulsed by the thought. “Absolutely not. Never would’ve happened in a million years.”

“Yeah, well, I know that _now_. Silly me for not assuming that everything on your application was lies.”

“Well,” Bucky mused, feeling the gall amidst the previous nervous conversation to say, “those lies seem to be working out in your favor.”

Steve hummed and readjusted himself on the daybed to prop his head up with his elbow pressed against the mattress. “Working out very well.”

Mirroring his position, Bucky turned on his side, slipping a leg between Steve’s so that their calves brushed together, while Steve absentmindedly ran his blunt nails up and down Bucky’s ring finger. Although, his next question perhaps demonstrated that his action was more attentive than Bucky thought. “When you eventually get to that part in a relationship, do you see yourself being the one who does the actual proposing?”

_Oh_ , they were back to _that_ topic of discussion.

Bucky bit his lip, thinking about the game earlier and how it felt to kneel in front of Steve and then applying those feelings to a hypothetical real-world context in front of a nameless, faceless person, who may or may not have been named Steve or looked like Steve. “Maybe. I don’t know. I feel like it would be more of a mutual thing, like we’d both know when we want it and not make a big deal out of it. More of a ‘hey, wanna get married?’ while we’re both sitting on the couch and watching TV kinda thing.”

“You don’t want a big fireworks-display, prime-time spectacular?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“Not particularly,” Bucky admitted, never one to be the center of attention. “Although, if you–” Bucky cut himself off. He wasn’t entirely sure why they were dancing around including each other in these hypotheticals. They were dating, and it was normal to discuss future plans with your boyfriend, right? It was normal to think about marrying your boyfriend, talking about it as a possibility. Still, that thought twisted Bucky’s tongue in his mouth, rendering it impossible to say out loud. “–or the person I’m with at the time want to make a big deal out of it, I can’t exactly say no to that.”

With a simple bob of his head, Steve nodded. Subtly but, again, not subtly at all, he said quietly, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Bucky didn’t know how to reply to that, and instead, stared down at their hands where Steve continued to idly trace the finger that would maybe, potentially, hypothetically, one day, hold a ring.

Before those thoughts could either drift off into the realm of dreams or dive deep into the abyss of worries, a shout interrupted them, making Steve’s movements stutter to an unnatural stop. “I got a text!”

They both exchanged a sigh, getting up and finding the others in the kitchenette. Carol held up her phone and read aloud, “Islanders, the public has been voting on their favorite couples. Tonight, the two couples with the lowest number of votes will be up for elimination, and it will be up to the safe couples to decide who goes home and who stays. #S.Y.S. #Save-Your-Ship”

Well, that text definitely changed the mood.

Lighthearted smiles were replaced with tense glances, as they looked around the group, knowing that it would be their last night for some of them. Their last night together as a group. _This_ group. In the morning, things would be different. _If Bucky was still there_. But that thought didn’t scare him, because at his side, Steve would be with him, whether they were still on the show or not.

Comforted by that reminder, they sat beside each other while watching most of the other couples rush to get ready. “Whatever happens tonight, you’ll be happy?” Bucky asked to clarify.

Without hesitation, Steve grinned. “I’ll be more than happy.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Janet arrived with her usual fanfare, bringing with her the stormy atmosphere, prompted by her notecards. “Islanders, as you already know, the public has been voting on your fate on the Island. The couples with the most votes will be safe, and the two couples with the lowest votes will be up for elimination. When we are down to those final two couples, the remaining five couples will vote amongst themselves to decide who will stay on the Island and who will be asked to leave tonight.”

At the new rule, Bucky glanced at Steve who continued to watch Janet without noticing him.

After breaking the news of the impending doom and gloom, Janet lightened her tone and flashed a grin at the two on the left end of the fire pit bench. “Carol and Val, although romance may have been rekindled between you two this week, you are not technically in a couple and were not involved in the public vote. But, acting as a couple, you will still be able to share a vote to save your fellow Islanders tonight. You are both safe and may take your seats.”

Carol and Val turned to each other with a gasp, corners of their painted lips raised and eyes gleaming. They exchanged a brief but meaningful hug before being the first two to sit on the bench. While the others remained standing, Val tossed her arm around Carol’s shoulders, who chuckled and tangled her fingers in the fringe at the end of Val’s crocheted crop top.

Shifting the mood yet again, Janet sighed as she flipped to her next notecard. “In no particular order, the following couples are also safe and may take their seats.”

Between them, Steve slipped his hand into Bucky’s and gave it a light squeeze.

To no one’s surprise, the first couple that Janet read out was, “Riley and Sam.”

Still, the pair appeared shocked while the others clapped for them, watching Riley lean down to peck Sam on the lips before taking their seats.

Next was, “Peggy and Angie.”

Steve smiled at them as they embraced, and Peggy raised one of Angie’s hands to her face, kissing her knuckles as they sat.

Janet seemed to particularly enjoy reading the names on the next card: “Hope and Scott.”

Before sitting down, Hope blew a kiss to her mother and gave Scott a real kiss.

Counting the eight heads on the bench, it didn’t take long for Bucky to realize that there was only one couple left to be announced that was completely ‘safe.’ Steve must have noticed, too, tightening his grasp on Bucky’s hand.

“The final couple who is safe tonight is…” Janet said, and Bucky held his breath.

There was no reason for them to be nervous, ready to develop their relationship outside of this ridiculous setting, but at the same time… This ridiculous setting was fun. It was easy and lacked the regular worries of everyday life, allowing their relationship to be their sole concern. It would be more difficult to maintain that level of prioritization while navigating their other routines, but seeing the way that Steve smiled down at him, blue eyes saying a million promises that his mouth had yet to make, told Bucky that if this was their last night together on the show, it would be perfectly okay.

“Steve and Bucky.”

_Or_ , it wouldn’t be their last night together on the show, and that would be perfectly okay too.

Steve’s breath rushed past his ear in a sigh as they pulled each other into a hug, realizing that the others were still waiting to see how they would greet each other before sitting down. When they separated, Bucky planted his lips quickly on Steve’s cheek, eliciting a collective ‘aw’ from the group that made him roll his eyes.

“Unfortunately,” Janet continued, “that leaves two couples that are up for elimination: Thor and Jane and Maria and Bruce. Islanders, it is now up to you to determine who will stay and who will go home. Each of the safe couples will have one vote. You’ll have a few minutes to discuss in your couples, and you will make your final decision through text. We will join together around the fire pit to read out the results and find out which two Islanders will be going home tonight.”

_Damn_.

“This is a lot of pressure,” Bucky thought out loud, as he sat with Steve on the swinging bench, isolating themselves from the others who were spreading out around the villa. Carol and Val sat on the steps leading to the rarely-used hot tub, and Sam and Riley took a daybed. While Peggy and Angie sat beside the pool, Scott and Hope stood at the breakfast bar in the kitchenette.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed.

“So, we have to decide whether to save Thor and Jane or Maria and Bruce, and then, we text that choice to the producers?”

“Correct.”

Bucky saw the way that Steve’s eyes drifted over to the two couples who were still sitting by the fire pit. “Do you have an idea of who you want to save?”

With another sigh, Steve turned back to him, rubbing the back of his neck, while his saddened expression almost appeared apologetic. “I can’t _not_ vote for Thor. Aside from you, Thor and Sam were the two who really welcomed me into the villa. I know you weren’t there during Casa Amor, but as soon as she walked in with the others, it was like nothing else mattered to that guy. So, I’m not just biased. They really deserve to be here.”

Nodding, Bucky listened to the unmistakable sincerity in his voice and laid his hand on top of Steve’s to assure him that he understood. “That’s fine,” he said softly with a small smile. “I believe you, and I am completely okay with voting for them.”

“You sure?” Steve asked, looking up shyly through his eyelashes.

“Of course. It sucks that we have to make this decision, but you’re a good friend and I think this is the right call.”

Finally letting himself smile, Steve said, “Thanks, Bucky.”

Bucky shook his head and leaned forward to give him a brief kiss – the gesture feeling routine, like it was something they had done for years as a quick goodbye before leaving the house for work. “You’re my boyfriend. I care about your feelings, and we make decisions as a team. You don’t have to thank me.”

Typing Thor and Jane’s names into his phone, however, still made Bucky feel a tinge of guilt, knowing that this simple text message could possibly send two people home. Although, he realized that that outcome would happen either way, regardless of who they chose.

When they all reconvened at the fire pit, everyone wore a similar shade of guilt, gazes darting back and forth, avoiding each other at all costs. Janet faced them with a gravely-serious expression before looking down at the freshly-prepared notecard. “Islanders, it was a very close vote, but unfortunately, one couple will still be going home tonight. With three votes, the couple that you chose to _save_ was…”

This time, Bucky sought out Steve’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Thor and Jane.”

They gasped and held each other close. Thor’s arms were tight around her, strong and powerful but still gentle, as if not to crush her. For a few moments, they breathed each other in and out, inhaling and exhaling the implications that the majority of their fellow contestants voted to keep them on the show to continue building their relationship.

As they sat down, that left one couple standing: “Maria and Bruce, I am so sorry to say that this is your final night on the Island. We’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye.”

Like the previous time that they had done this, saying farewell to Wanda and wishing her their best, the goodbyes were bittersweet. They exchanged hugs by the fire pit, and they exchanged hugs in the foyer once bags were packed and wheeled to the entrance of the villa. All of them applauded their exit.

Admittedly, Bucky didn’t know Maria or Bruce very well, but the atmosphere still felt different without their presence, as they walked down the cobblestone pathway into the night. After the other couples slowly dispersed to get ready for bed, Bucky continued to stare out the screen door with Steve by his side. “Six couples left,” he said, “and only four make it to the finale?”

Steve nodded. “And only one will win.”

Turning away from the dark, turning to Steve, slipping his arms around his neck, Bucky whispered, “Whatever happens…”

“Happens,” Steve finished without hesitation and confirmed it with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, some serious talks today 👀 What do you think?
> 
> Hopefully no one was too attached to Maria and Bruce - I don't even know if that's a real mcu ship 😅 I love their characters individually, but hey, we need some people to weed out before the show's over. Moving forward, however, as I'm sure you can imagine, it might be more difficult to say goodbye to some other couples...🙁
> 
> But at least Stucky is going strong! 😅
> 
> Thanks again to everyone interacting with the story! Those notifications truly brighten my day 😊 And welcome aboard to all my new readers who joined in the recent days; it's lovely to see new names and faces joining the Island party 🏝😅🎉
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."We need something fun today." 🍷🍸🍹


	43. Chapter 43

**Episode 43**

“We need something fun today,” Bucky said the next day, talking to everyone as he lounged in between Steve’s legs, lying on the turf where they all spread out lazily on the beanbag chairs.

It was an unfathomably hot day, easily the hottest of the summer so far, and no one had the strength to do anything aside from slouch and sweat and fan themselves with their hands. They faced away from the scorching sun, but even behind designer sunglasses, they had to squint to see each other. Even Bucky caved and borrowed a pair of Versace for the day, fearing that the UV rays would melt the cheap plastic of his usual 7/11 chic.

Or something like that. It was too hot to remember his notes from eighth-grade earth science.

Every fifteen minutes, someone would remind Steve to reapply his sunscreen, which started out as a joke that became serious after seeing his skin turn pinker and pinker by the second. Bucky didn’t mind, though, as the reminders gave him an excuse to run his hands up and down his boyfriend’s gorgeous legs. Rubbing the cream into his thighs, Bucky brushed his fingers along the tattoo and subtly slipped his fingertips under his shorts, smirking at the feeling of quads tightening beneath his palms every time he pushed a little too far for comfort, getting a little too comfortable in front of their friends.

To answer his question, Riley lifted his head from where it rested on Sam’s lap. “We could braid our hair together into a heart.”

[ _I think I have a better idea_.]

No one rushed to get the phone that chimed, but eventually, Peggy raised hers and said with no excitement, “Text.”

The others groaned.

Pushing herself onto her elbows, she kept one hand interlaced with Angie’s while she read aloud, “Islanders, what better way to cool off than shade? Thrown literally in today’s social media challenge: Unpopular Opinions. #Burn-Some-Bridges #Unpopularity-Contest”

[ _Is there anything better than an ice-cold drink on a hot summer day? Why, watching pretty people throw ice-cold drinks into each other’s faces! Like the previous social media challenge, each Islander will be given a shady statement to read about one or two of the Islanders, taken from audience members’ Tweets. To guess who fills in the [Blank], the Islander throws their drink into that person’s or persons’ face. (And by drink, we mean water that’s colored with food dye.) Now, you may be asking yourself, ‘Didn’t we just do an Islanders-throwing-something-into-their-faces-challenge?’ And, yes, you’re right, but that challenge was symbolic_ pies _and this challenge is symbolic_ drinks _. Worlds different._ ]

[ _Let’s start off with an easy one to show you how it’s done_.]

On the challenge deck, Bucky looked over the array of fake drinks that had been lined up on a bar. They were a rainbow of colors and a variety of plastic glasses – bright red in a martini glass, violet in a champagne flute, aquamarine in a curvy Hurricane glass. Behind him, shelves had been assembled, holding rows of similarly-tinted water in plastic, unlabeled liquor bottles of differing heights. Across from him, in front of the bar, the other eleven Islanders sat in a line on wooden benches that had been set up, as they waited for him to read the first prompt.

Bucky picked up the first notecard on the stack below the bar and rolled his eyes at the message before reading it out loud: “Unpopular Opinion: [Blank] is only pretending to be friends with [Blank] for the clout.”

Lifting the lime-green-filled margarita glass, Bucky sighed and stepped out from the bar with a sigh, knowing that there was only one combination of names that would make sense. He closed his eyes and threw half of the ‘drink’ into his own face, flinching away from the sudden burst of cold liquid, before tossing the over half at Riley who screamed and blocked his face with his hands. As the water dripped down their bodies and the others laughed, Bucky ripped off the two strips of tape to show that, of course, he had guessed the right answer.

Riley shook his head, flicking droplets of water at him, when he took his seat in between him and Steve. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for Insta followers,” Riley joked with a pout.

Bucky scoffed, wringing out his hair before brushing it over his shoulders. “I’m not even on Instagram.”

As if he had admitted something truly heinous, pleading guilty to a horrific crime, most of the others gasped, except for Steve who already knew this _startling_ information and didn’t seem to care. Riley, however, did and stared at him, eyes wide and appalled. “ _What?_ So, you’re a ghost?”

Shrugging, Bucky leaned back on the bench. “Boo, bitch.”

He felt no shame in voicing his beliefs that social media was pointless, and this challenge proved that. Thankfully, no one seemed to be taking it too seriously. Everyone was finally happy in their couples, even Carol and Val who weren’t technically in a couple but still sitting together, legs tangled and leaning against each other’s shoulders.

The producers called Carol to act as the next bartender and read from the next card. “Unpopular Opinion, but [Blank] is obviously not [Blank’s] type.”

Pondering her options, her gaze passed over Riley and Sam and then over Bucky and Steve and then over Angie and Peggy. She paused when she got to the final two couples, looking between Scott and Hope and Jane and Thor. “Obviously not my opinion, but I could see people thinking this if they’re watching at home.”

She splashed the orange drink as gently as possible at Jane and Thor, who accepted her guess with bittersweet half-smiles. Her guess turned out to be incorrect when she peeled off the tape to reveal her other guess: “Scott is obviously not Hope’s type.”

Scott immediately turned to Hope, who looked back at him with a smirk. “I mean, they’re not technically wrong. You’re definitely not my usual type, but until now, that type had been douchebags. So, I think switching it up is working out pretty well for me.”

Her comment earned a chorus of _aw_ ’s and chuckles from the rest of the group before being chosen to stand at the bar next. Before she read it out loud, she laughed. “Unpopular Opinion: [Blank] is the only person this season that has a brain.”

While the others laughed, they looked between themselves, trying to figure out what an audience member would qualify as ‘having a brain’ on this show. Bucky assumed that it would have something to do with _not_ deliberately or indirectly imploding and/or second-guessing their relationship, which deleted him from the equation – as well as the rest of the half of his end of the line. Hope also turned her attention to the other bench and aimed her martini glass at Peggy, dousing her with her signature cherry-red color.

“So close!” Hope exclaimed, ripping the tape from the card. “It was Angie!”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment, but I’ll take it,” Angie said with a laugh, as she offered Peggy her wrap to dry herself off, not caring in the slightest that the white material was getting stained pink.

Thor was given the honor of reading the next prompt that was similarly slightly-less-insulting-but-still-backhanded. “Unpopular Opinion, but I’d bet the whole 50k that [Blank] and [Blank] are going to be the winners of Season 11.”

_Ooh_ , was apparently the chorus to be supplied by the live studio audience this round, as all eleven of the others said it in unison. Naturally, Thor approached the obvious option, perhaps forgetting the ‘unpopular’ part of the game. Riley squealed again when Thor added yellow to his ensemble of drying green despite Sam’s valiant attempts at fronting most of the splash.

“And the correct answer is…” Thor began and turned back to the other Islanders with a grin, “Peggy and Angie!”

With a gasp, the couple looked at each other with wide eyes before pulling each other into a tight embrace, giggling and sharing a kiss when they separated. Draping her arm around Angie’s shoulders, Peggy rested back comfortably, saying, “And I will gladly accept _that_ as a compliment.”

Continuing the good-yet-backhanded vibes, Scott picked up his card from the bar. “Unpopular Opinion: [Blank] might be the most interesting Islander this season.”

He nodded, processing the prompt, and scanned the line before settling on the opposite end from Bucky’s. “With the incredible work that this person is doing in research pharmacy, finding affordable solutions to expensive medications to help out low-income families, she absolutely deserves to be considered the most interesting Islander here,” he said and tossed his drink at Jane.

Before Scott even checked the card to see if his guess was correct, which he was, the other Islanders started clapping for her. Bucky joined them on instinct with his eyebrows raised, realizing that he had somehow missed Jane’s introduction, but he would certainly applaud for her work.

Humbly shrugging off their applause, Jane took her place at the bar for the next prompt. “Unpopular Opinion: [Blank] and [Blank] should have made it official in the first week.”

With the clue in that prompt limiting her options, she turned to Bucky’s bench with the only Islanders who had all been part of the Island during the first week. She decided to hedge her bets on the couple who had yet to define their relationship, throwing the liquid at Carol and Val who embraced it proudly. The blue dye turned a strip of Carol’s hair green, but she couldn’t have looked any happier with Val by her side as the others clapped for them when Jane’s guess turned out to be correct.

“About that,” Val started to say when the others quieted down, “Ever since we got back from Casa Amor, Carol and I have actually been giving some serious thought as to why our relationship fizzled out in the beginning. Part of it, we realized, is that we were just afraid of the labels, and that was a terrible reason to end that relationship and explore something else with other people.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky caught Steve’s smirk, recognizing that particular line of reasoning. Bucky rested a hand on Steve’s thigh, and Steve immediately rested his on top, as they returned their attention back to the end of their bench where Val was still talking.

“Now that we’ve had that conversation, though, I think this might be the perfect opportunity to ask a certain question.”

Along with the rest of the group, Bucky held his breath, hand tightening against Steve’s.

Val took both of Carol’s hands in her own with a final deep breath. “Carol, will you be my girlfriend?”

Everyone appeared to lean in, waiting for Carol’s response, as her face broke out into a beaming grin. “Of course, I will.”

While the new girlfriends remained seated, laughing as they held each other close, the other Islanders leapt to their feet with shouts and applause. They screamed their approval into the hills and valleys, but perhaps the loudest proponent of the development in their relationship was Thor, who hopped onto their bench and gave a whistle that could be heard all the way across to the mainland.

The producers gave them time to exchange hugs with the others but instructed them to get back to the game once everyone gave them their best wishes and congratulations. Steve took his turn, looking comfortable behind the bar, and lifted up the next notecard. Reading it to himself, he frowned, but Bucky wasn’t concerned about the prompt. “Unpopular Opinion: [Blank] and [Blank] were a much better couple together.”

_Okay_ , Bucky thought, _that was fine_. How could a dumb suggestion ruin the upbeat, ecstatic atmosphere?

Then, watching Steve make his guess, Bucky regretted asking himself that rhetorical question. He started by raising the deep purple champagne flute, tossing half of it on himself, before walking over to the other end of the line. In slow-motion and disbelief, Bucky saw the water suspend itself in the air, sparkling for just a moment before landing on Peggy.

At first, no one reacted. The gesture was met with tense silence – awkward and heavy. Riley broke it with a whisper, reaching out to rest a comforting hand lightly on Bucky’s arm, “He’s an idiot.”

Bucky shook his head and watched Steve realize his mistake in waves. He first noticed that no one was laughing or applauding like the previous rounds and immediately turned his attention to Bucky, who dropped his gaze to the floorboards. “No,” Steve said quietly, obviously aimed at him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

But it didn’t matter what he meant; the motion itself said plenty. His ex-coworkers refused to give him the chance to explain himself, either, instructing Steve to rip off the tape. Revealing that his guess wasn’t even correct, showing the real answer as Val and Thor, Steve’s face fell, growing pale as the blood drained from it. “I’m sorry,” he said when he took his seat.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said, shaking his head again.

He had no reason to be upset. Steve was just playing the game, trying to guess what ‘unpopular’ claim an audience member would make. If he was thinking logically, he would have realized that Steve suggesting his guess as unpopular should have made him feel relieved, but emotionally, he felt disappointed. It hurt to think of Steve and Peggy together again, in whatever context, reminding him of the painful week that they spent apart.

He knew that the feelings were irrational, but for the rest of the game, regardless of how much he wanted to, he simply couldn’t shake them. Even after the game continued, slowly returning to the fun, relaxed energy from before Steve’s prompt, Bucky found himself distracted. He listened and followed along when the others clapped, but he couldn’t bring himself to truly care about who the audience accused, this time, of only being on the show for the money or who had the best chemistry. Everything reminded him of Steve’s stupid answer for this stupid game from stupid social media.

Bucky started to remember why he hated this show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, social media challenges - the worst! 
> 
> I'm sure you can tell by the end of this chapter that Bucky's feelings are exactly that - FEELINGS. So, have no fear! Our good friends rationality and logic will be returning tomorrow 😅
> 
> This is another scene that my Love Island UK fans may recognize. My favorite Islander, Chris, from Season 5 made the same 'mistake' during this challenge (they call it the Sidebar of Shame 😂) He was given a similar prompt about a previous couple who had better chemistry, and like Steve, he guessed himself and a previous partner. Even though it obviously wasn't his own opinion, his guess caused so much drama that I simply had to include a similar scene, because I'm a monster 😂 
> 
> Thankfully, we will see very shortly that the drama is far less severe in this Love Island in regard to this moment, so no worries! 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who has been reading and interacting with this story! Your comments and kudos and recommendations to friends mean the absolute world to me, and I really can't thank you enough. We are officially SIX WEEKS down!! And we still have so many amazing and wonderful moments to look forward to! (Starting tomorrow too with one of my favorite chapters! 😊)
> 
> Feel free to swing by and say hi on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets (I'm always down to talk about our favorite boys in this universe or any universe 😅)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...A quick debrief before our city boys take advantage of something that they can only find outside of city limits (I'll give you a hint...🌌🌌🌌)


	44. Chapter 44

**Episode 44**

They returned to the villa just as the sun began to set, dusk tinting the sky like the violet water that clung to some of the Islanders’ clothes. After the initial shock of Steve’s suggestion had worn off, Bucky realized that the anxious part of his brain had overreacted. He silently asked the swirling, spiraling worries and doubts to quiet themselves, allowing rationality and logic to take over. He knew for a fact that Steve harbored no residual feelings for Peggy. He wasn’t voicing _his_ opinion; he was trying to guess what an audience member might think. Steve was his boyfriend, and they were both content in their relationship. A ridiculous game would never threaten that connection.

Still, Bucky sighed when he joined Riley in their dressing room, who instantly enveloped him in a hug. “Oh, honey. Don’t even worry about him. I think the heat made him stupid.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky scoffed and pulled away from his embrace, allowing his hands to linger on Riley’s arms. “He’s not stupid. He was just trying to play the game and made a bad call.”

“Yeah, at _your_ expense,” Riley interrupted, not seeming convinced. “He knows how this show works, so he obviously knows that they were setting him up for that response. He could have chosen anyone else – he _should_ have chosen anyone else – but he didn’t. You have every right to be upset about that.”

“But I’m not upset,” Bucky said and squeezed his biceps, as if to prove it. He had rationalized the events of the game perfectly on the walk back from the challenge deck. “I mean, yeah, at first, I was taken aback. I was surprised he would suggest Peggy and himself with everything that we went through, but it’s fine. He was trying to figure out what an audience member might believe, not what _he_ believes. I’m not mad at him.”

“Still,” Riley started again, and Bucky cut him off with a shake of his head.

“I’m not mad,” Bucky said, repeating himself for the last time.

(It wasn’t the last time.)

After throwing on a loose t-shirt and athletic shorts, Bucky found Steve outside on one of the daybeds. He sighed when he slid onto the mattress, thankful to rest his back against the plush pillows and curl up against Steve’s side. Initially, Steve tensed beneath Bucky’s fingertips as his hand rested on the hem of Steve’s shirt. “You okay?” Bucky asked, looking up at him to see his eyes opened wide.

“Yeah,” Steve said, voice conveying the same shock as his face. “I was just about to look for you to apologize.”

“For what?”

Steve blinked at him. “The game?”

Bucky started to worry about the strain that he was putting on his eyeball muscles as he rolled his eyes yet another time. “You don’t have to apologize to me about that.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

There was no way that Steve was actually asking him that question. “No, I’m not mad at you!” Realizing that his elevated tone seemed to reflect the opposite of that statement, Bucky lowered his voice and rubbed at the headache that was forming in his temples. “Why do people think I’m mad at you? Am I supposed to be?”

Shaking his head, Steve still appeared surprised. “Not necessarily, but I did something I shouldn’t have during that game. It was rude of me and rude to you. I was only thinking about the game, trying to get back into my producer headspace of what they would choose as the most ‘scandalous’ prompt. I wasn’t thinking clearly about how that decision might affect you, and that’s not fair. I know you said not to apologize, but I really am sorry, Bucky.”

This time, Bucky shook his head. “I don’t care about the game or how you were thinking. You’re my boyfriend, and I trust you. I wouldn’t have made that commitment with you if I didn’t. I assumed you didn’t actually believe that you were better off with her – or whatever the comment was – but if you do, then we should probably have that conversation soon.”

“God, no,” Steve said with a soft chuckle, dropping his head to rest against Bucky’s. “The only person I want to be with is you. For as long as you’ll let me.”

Heart melting in the slowly-dissipating heat, Bucky turned his head to capture Steve’s lips in a kiss that he hoped would illustrate his own interest in that proposition.

When they pulled apart, they relaxed into each other, lying on their backs, and Steve slipped his arm behind Bucky’s head. Bending his arm at the elbow, Bucky tangled their hands together, beyond grateful to have him back in his grasp. For now, and hopefully for a whole lot longer.

After settling in and getting comfortable, with Steve’s free hand finding its way home in Bucky’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp when he moved his fingers in natural circles, Steve asked, as if to be absolutely positive, “So, you’re not mad at me?”

Bucky leaned back to see the grin spread across Steve’s face and made sure that he could hear the exaggerated sigh that passed through his nose. “Not currently, but if you ask me that goddamn question again, I will be.”

“Got it.” Steve laughed in his ear before pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead and giving his hand a quick squeeze. Continuing the joke, he asked, “Do you think Angie’s gonna try to punch me in the face?”

“Hm.” Bucky tried to picture that mental image with a smirk, and now that they’d had their serious conversation to lay out their feelings, he leaned into the humor of it. “I wouldn’t try to stop her."

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Steve said with a nod.

As Steve stroked his fingers through Bucky’s hair and Bucky rubbed his thumb against Steve’s hand, they fell into an organic rhythm, breaths and heartrates synchronized. Listening to the ambient background noise of the others continuing to congratulate Carol and Val, Steve broke the mutual silence between them. “Y’know, I was starting to think that you’d be sending me to the doghouse tonight and I’d have to fall asleep out here.”

“If I did, I’d be following you out here.”

Steve lifted his head. “Really?”

“Well, it’s a beautiful night to spend out on a daybed with the dumbest man on the planet.”

Obviously, Steve wasn’t expecting the joke – neither was Bucky!

“Damn,” Steve said through a sigh before chuckling. “I see how it is. But I’m definitely not blaming you. I deserve it.”

Instead of rolling his eyes at Steve’s relentless self-deprecation, Bucky kept them trained at the sky, where it had almost fully transitioned into night. The moon was full, its silver halo glowing into the pitch-black canvas. Flecks of light were interspersed throughout the dark clouds, miniature pinpoints of celestial chaos arranged in delicate, deliberate lacework patterns. “It really is a beautiful night, though,” Bucky said quietly, not wanting to disturb the utter sense of peace.

Steve hummed his assent. “Oh, yes. I love looking up at the stars. I can never see them back home from the light pollution.”

“Me too.”

For a great deal of his childhood, Bucky assumed that the skies that he saw in his picture books and cartoons on the TV screen were mythical. The stars were part of the fiction. When his Ma took him and Becca to visit an aunt upstate for the holidays, arriving late at night due to the always-reliable traffic, Bucky hopped out of the car and stared up at the sky in awe, unable to believe his eyes. He spun in circles, memorizing their positions and colors. Most were white, but _ooh_ , that one looked almost pink, and _wow_ , that one was extra bright. Finding one that looked especially like a diamond, twinkling in the dark, he finally understood that one song.

He could have spent the rest of the night outside, lying on his back in the snow, counting as many stars as he could before losing track around one hundred and starting over, but Ma hauled him inside, claiming that his ruby-red cheeks were a sign of him already catching a cold.

Now, in the heat of the summer, lying beside his boyfriend, Bucky felt the same innocent wonder as he gazed at the endless expanse of stars, unable to catalog their true number. But, unlike his mother, Steve didn’t mind staying outside. “Do you know how to recognize the constellations?” he asked.

Bucky shook his head. With a small smile, he recalled late nights with Nat at her grandparents’ cabin when they would camp out on the wooden porch and lie beside each other in matching sleeping bags. They spent hours pointing at the sky, creating their own shapes and outlines with made-up names in the same way that they found faces in fluffy clouds.

“No,” Bucky said, “but I’ve always wanted to learn.”

Apparently, that was the exact response that Steve was hoping for, and he readjusted himself, shifting back on the pillows. “Alright, so it’s July,” he said starting off in his producer/storytelling voice that internally made Bucky excited, knowing that he would have something interesting to say, pulling out a party trick. “That means we can see a few things. One of those Scorpius, the scorpion, obviously.”

Steve took the lead in lifting their conjoined hands to the sky. Arms straight, Steve’s on top of Bucky’s, Steve guided their index fingers to point at a particular cluster just below the moon and tracing a specific shape. “See its body and head up here and then the way its tail curves down here?”

Squinting, Bucky struggled to differentiate the whatever-Steve-was-having-them-point-at from the rest of the stars, definitely failing to spot a _scorpion_. He nodded anyway.

“That one’s special, because it has one of the brightest stars in it. See the one in its body that’s almost red?”

_Shit_ , now he actually had to find it. Giving up on finding the shape, he generalized his search by simply looking for one that was off-color, and when he spotted the orange-pink dot, he gasped. “ _Yes_.”

Bucky could feel the warmth of Steve’s grin, as it seeped into his voice, watching him connect the dots with his eyes in amazement, finally seeing the animal take form. “That star is a red supergiant. It’s called Antares.”

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky said, breathless.

After giving him a moment to appreciate the constellation, Steve shifted their hands up and to the left. “This one is Draco, the dragon. I think it looks like Scorpius but in reverse with its tail on the right, going up, and its head on the bottom-left.

Bucky nodded and took control of their hands, following the shape. “Its body is curved, right?”

Despite never taking his eyes from the sky, afraid of losing sight of the constellation, Bucky could sense the fondness in Steve’s expression when he looked at him. “Yeah, Buck. You got it.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he was catching on. “Why is it special?”

“Ah, so, it actually has a galaxy inside of it, and in that galaxy, there’s even more galaxies. We can’t see it without a telescope, but there’s a beautiful nebula in there too, which is–”

“Where baby stars are born,” Bucky supplied automatically with childlike insight, remembering the astronomy books that he adored on his bookshelf back home.

Steve’s smile felt even warmer against the side of his face, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Proudly, Bucky gave one last glance at the serpentine form of the dragon before finally turning his head to look at Steve. With a silent gasp, he realized that he could still see the constellations in Steve’s eyes. He saw a lifetime of stars, an eternity of light that burned in a vibrant blue. Beauty and hope, happiness and life. Something even more powerful than love. Their _future_.

“Oh, Steve…” Bucky whispered, no longer capable of maintaining the inch of space between them, and crashed their mouths together, two galaxies colliding in the night sky.

They melted into each other, exchanging heat and passion. Fire and chemistry crackled between them, and Bucky chased the entire spectrum of colors that he saw when their lips brushed together. When Steve nipped at his bottom lip, tongue laving at the impression of his teeth, Bucky moaned and saw that off-color, red glow behind his eyelids. _Antares_. He needed more.

Tilting his head back, bringing Steve’s face with him as their foreheads remained connected, Bucky panted into his mouth. “Show me more constellations.”

That request made Steve laugh – a huff that flooded Bucky’s lungs in a burst of air. He pressed one final kiss to the center of Bucky’s lips before lying back down, arranging them in their original position.

Steve led him through finding Hercules, the strongman with his box body, two arms, and two legs; Ophiuchus, the snake bearer, comprised of a splattering of multiple clusters; and Serpens, the serpent, yet another snake-inspired constellation that was split into two parts.

“…So, those are the constellations you can see in July.”

By the end of his personal tour, Bucky was yawning but still fascinated, more than willing to listen to Steve lecture about the stars for hours and hours. He could have been making up this information entirely, pointing out random constellations that didn’t actually exist and giving them Greek names that seemed believable, but Bucky would happily soak it in. Perhaps his tiredness was catching up to him, eyelids heavy, when he asked without questioning it to himself first, “Can we do this every month?”

_Every month_ implied at least an entire year together, eleven more months, but what Bucky hoped to imply in that sentiment was: _forever_.

And Steve nodded, seeming to understand every implication. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to all the space nerds out there 🤓
> 
> Seriously though, I LOVE looking up at the night sky, and for most of the year, I live in a city where the light pollution completely blocks out the stars, so this chapter is definitely personal to me 😅 (But I am still very much in Bucky's camp of having absolutely no idea how actually identify the constellations - I definitely need a Steve in my life 😂)
> 
> I think this is such a fun chapter, and I really hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you did 😊 And if you ever want to talk more about Stucky and/or space, please feel free to chat with me on Tumblr too @ buckyandthejets 😅
> 
> 🎧 "Andromeda" - Vertigo
> 
> (Everyone needs a space-inspired love song in their life! I absolutely adore this one from a local band that I had the privilege of getting to know before they disbanded. It's still such a fun, funky tune, so give it a listen!)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...“Did we never tell them?”


	45. Chapter 45

**Episode 45**

“So, what were you two lovebirds up to last night?” Riley asked, long leg brushing against Bucky’s float in the pool.

Bucky knew exactly what he was referring to. Late at night, long after they had fallen asleep on the daybed, Steve woke him with a gentle nudge. “Bucky,” he whispered, and when Bucky didn’t move, he tried again. “Buck, baby.”

Shaking his head with a groan, Bucky rubbed his face against Steve’s chest in a wordless response.

Steve let out a light chuckle in the back of his throat and ran a hand supportively up Bucky’s arm. “C’mon, honey, we should get inside.”

“No,” Bucky said, voice muffled by Steve’s t-shirt.

Quietly, Steve laughed again and slipped himself out from under Bucky’s embrace, forcing gravity to propel him face-first into the mattress. Bucky groaned louder when his cheek fell onto the soft blanket, but Steve didn’t seem to listen to his disdain. “We shouldn’t spend the night out here. C’mon, we’ll sleep better in our bed.”

Putting on his best pout, Bucky looked up at Steve through his eyelashes with a question he intended to ask as a joke. “Carry me?”

Steve rose from the daybed with a sigh, and Bucky closed his eyes, attempting find comfort in this new crumpled position without his boyfriend-shaped body pillow. It was nowhere near as cozy without Steve there to–

Eyes flying open, Bucky shrieked. His head swiveled around to find Steve easily lifting him from the mattress. With one arm underneath his knees, holding the backs of his thighs, and the other supporting his shoulders, Steve raised him into the air without difficulty. “What the hell are you doing?” Bucky asked on instinct, arms wrapping around Steve’s neck to help.

Showing off, Steve shrugged and, in doing so, lifted Bucky even higher, lacking any evidence of strain, as he explained simply, almost cocky, “You told me to carry you.”

As if he weighed not a single pound, Steve carried him bridal-style up the flight of stairs leading to the kitchenette. Bucky felt wide awake by that point and couldn’t restrain the giggles that bubbled out of his throat at the absurdity of the situation when they reached the bedroom door. “Okay, you can put me down now,” he said when Steve reached for the door handle with the hand that cradled his legs.

Steve – _the stubborn bastard_ – shook his head. “You said to carry you to bed, so I’m carrying you to bed.”

“Steve, no,” Bucky said, as the door creaked open. When Steve nudged it open wider with his foot, giving no indication that he planned to set him on the ground, Bucky dropped his voice to a hiss, “ _Steve_ , stop it. Put me down. I’m gonna hit my head on the doorframe.”

“You’re not gonna hit your head on the doorframe,” Steve insisted in a stern whisper and stepped through the threshold before Bucky could argue again.

With Bucky mostly horizontal, it was an awkward fit that forced Steve to angle him in different ways, reminding Bucky of early mornings in the very beginning when Steve juggled his various work paraphernalia while attempting to open the confessional shack’s door. Except, now, his six-foot boyfriend was added to the mix, upping the challenge.

Even as his eyes adjusted to complete darkness, Bucky could see the look of satisfaction that crossed over Steve’s face in the form of a smirk, clearly proud of himself when he managed to fit them both through the door and close it with his foot without making too much noise. _Right_ , because everyone else was sleeping _directly beside them_ , Bucky remembered in fright. Appearing unfazed by that notion, Steve continued to carry him to their bed in the center of the room. Passing each of the other beds, Bucky stared down, almost terrified, nerves jittering in the pit of his stomach, struggling to gauge the expressions of the other couples, wondering if anyone was awake to see them.

Or hear them.

Because as much as it scared him to potentially find one of his fellow Islanders watching them in disapproval, that thought was so incredibly funny. And then the fact that he _couldn’t_ laugh made him want to laugh even harder, desperately wanting to cry out in hysterics but forced to stifle his laughter by pressing his face into the side of Steve’s neck.

Less than graceful, Steve dropped Bucky onto their bed in a heap, which made Bucky snort. Steve shushed him as they climbed under the covers together, and they naturally fell into their normal position on their left sides with Steve spooning Bucky from behind. “Quiet, Bucky,” he whispered into his ear in the low, gravelly voice that instantly made him melt, crumbling inside.

The command, of course, only made Bucky’s quiet giggle grow louder, and soon, Steve joined in, pressing his lips to the back of his neck to silence his wheezing. Bucky shivered from the reverberations that trailed down his spine and sighed contentedly into his pillow. In front of him, in the bed to their left, Bucky heard the rustling of sheets as someone lifted their head in the dark, peering over at them as they struggled to suppress their laughter.

In the morning, Bucky woke up to find Riley staring at them, as if he had stayed in that position all night. The knowing, judging look persisted throughout the entire time that they got ready for the day, changing into typical swim trunks. After Hope received a text that she and Scott would be going on a date, Bucky joined Riley on an adjacent deck chair by the pool. They sunbathed while their boyfriends swam laps around the pool, trying to outdo each other in an unspoken competition, with Steve on Sam’s left. Meanwhile, Riley continued to watch Bucky with that odd fascination out of the corner of his eye, seemingly waiting for the most opportune moment to ask about the night before.

Riley found it when they hopped into the pool together after Steve and Sam ended their feud by splashing each other before calling in their backup to intervene. With all four together on four separate floats, spinning in lazy circles, toes and fingers dipping in and out of the cool water, Riley finally asked the question that had apparently been smoldering in his mind.

Bucky exchanged a shared smirk with Steve before turning back to Riley and answering honestly. “Stargazing.”

“Oh,” Riley said, humoring him with a sarcastic nod and glancing at Sam. “You hear that? ‘Stargazing,’ he says. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

Less interested, Sam shrugged. “Just stargaze with protection and try to keep it quiet when we’re in the same room.”

“Seriously,” Steve interjected before Riley could make another comment. “I’m a huge space nerd, and Bucky unknowingly tapped into a wealth of knowledge I’ve been dying to share with someone for a while, scratching an itch that – okay, I can see how you’re interpreting this as innuendo now.”

As Riley cackled, Bucky and Steve worked together to send his donut spinning in the water. Riley’s float bumped against the edge of the pool before Sam caught it, bringing him to a stop at his side, where they leaned together to exchange a sweet kiss. Steve pretended to gag at the sight, which earned him a splash from Riley’s foot. Evening out the balance, Bucky pulled Steve in for a kiss of their own.

When both couples pulled apart, each individual lying comfortably on their float, Riley summarized the general mood by tossing his head back with a content sigh, and Sam appeared enraptured by the exposed column of his throat. Then, Riley chuckled to himself before letting the others in on the joke. “Thank god we didn’t get kicked off the show at Casa Amor, huh, Bucky?”

“ _What_?” Steve immediately asked.

At the same time, Sam asked, “Excuse me?”

Bucky froze, and Riley lifted his head, focusing his attention on Bucky. “Did we never tell them?”

When Bucky shook his head, Steve narrowed his eyes at them. “Tell us what?”

“It’s a funny story actually,” Bucky said, facing him with a weak grin.

Steve didn’t find the story to be particularly funny.

By the end of it, hearing Riley recount Dernier’s ultimatum, Steve had sighed and shaken his head so many times that Bucky was certain that he was lightheaded and had given himself whiplash. He looked at Bucky with a gray color so dull in his eyes that it could only be described as disappointment. “You know better. You read the contract, so you know the rules. And, _you_ ,” he said, shifting on his float to turn to Riley, “you’ve done this before! You know you’re not supposed to approach the producers unless it’s an emergency, and under _no_ circumstance, should any regular contestants have to talk to _Dernier_ , the EP.”

As much as his face flushed, instinctively embarrassed by the notion of letting Steve down, Bucky realized that there was something _so fucking hot_ about the tone of Steve’s voice when he scolded him. (Definitely something to experiment with at a later date.)

(Alone.)

While Bucky attempted to suppress his sinful thoughts, Riley responded for them both with a smirk. “Yeah, well, we’re obviously not any _regular_ contestants.”

“No,” Steve said, finding the strength in him to shake his head yet again. “Not the point.”

Rather than argue with his boyfriend, Sam took a different approach. “Imagine what it would have been like for me and Steve, waiting for you two to show up. Spending all that time worrying about you just for Janet to walk in and be like, ‘Sam and Steve, I am so terribly sorry to announce this, but Riley and Bucky have unfortunately left us and will not be coming back. The production staff at Love Island gives you our sincerest condolences.’”

“Oh my god!” Riley screeched and then cackled. “Don’t make it sound like we _died_!”

Sam reached across the water to grab his hand, only able to link their pinkies but seeming perfectly pleased with the contact. “No, no. You’re both alive and well. Thank god for that.”

Looking unimpressed at Bucky’s hand when he reached over to pull their floats together, Steve appeared less willing to concede. “You still shouldn’t have done that, though.”

“I know,” Bucky admitted but couldn’t stop himself when a dark lightbulb flashed above his head. He wet his bottom lip with his tongue before pouting it how Steve liked and batted his eyelashes. Dropping his voice, he still spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him tease Steve in a soft, demure whine. “I’m so sorry, Daddy. Will you please forgive me?”

Steve’s eyebrows immediately soared above his sunglasses, and maybe it was just the sun catching up on his skin, but a deep red flush rose from his neck to his cheeks. Before he could respond, Riley caught on and adopted the character for Sam, twirling a strand of hair loosely around a finger. “Yeah, we’ve been such _naughty_ boys. Maybe you should punish us.”

Appearing to hold his breath, stifling a laugh or a different kind of reaction, Sam cocked his head at Steve, as if ignoring the other two in the pool entirely. “The hell is going on here, Rogers? My boy didn’t act like this until he started hanging out with _yours_.”

Steve nodded with a chuckle and steepled his fingers, fixing his gaze on Sam. “Oh, I think I can say the same damn thing.”

But before anyone could say anything else, making another bold claim or provocative suggestion, Hope and Scott’s return to the villa signaled a text message that required their presence to be read out loud for the group. With a shared sigh, the four climbed out of the pool, clearing their throats as if to clear the air between them before they met the others. They found Jane wrapped in Thor’s arms, laughing as he peppered kisses across her face while she attempted to announce that they were invited to go on their first date together.

No longer needed or involved, Bucky led Steve, Riley, and Sam back to the lowest deck, knowing that the three would follow him down the stairs.

The energy in the pool definitely shifted when they returned – water somehow warmer, nearly boiling when Bucky dipped a toe into it. But Riley shifted the vibe back to something more lighthearted, changing the topic entirely from what is was before they were interrupted. “Can I just say that I’ve really been enjoying all four of us hanging out together? I don’t normally do double-dates, but I think this was fun. We should do this again.”

Along with Sam, Bucky nodded. “Definitely."

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “It’s a shame that we only have a little over two weeks left.”

Riley gasped and shot him a frown. “Stop it! You can’t just say shit like that that.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s true, though. Our season’s coming to a close.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t do something together when we’re all back home,” Sam offered, almost in an attempt to cheer up Riley, who nodded with a smile.

“Hear me out,” Riley started, holding up his palms, already defending himself. “What if we do this again next summer? I’m not saying do the show again, and obviously, I’m assuming that all things go well for us on the outside – which, let’s be real, I have no worries about either of our couples. So, assuming all that, what if we take a little vacation together? We can keep it tropical and sunny again, or we can switch it up and go somewhere cold. _Ooh_ , imagine a cute, little, cozy cabin in Alaska with a wood-burning fireplace. Sammie, you can fly us there!”

Sam chuckled but didn’t immediately shoot down his offer. “That’s a really nice idea, angel.”

Bucky exchanged a questioning glance with Steve, judging his thoughts with a quirked eyebrow, and Steve didn’t seem completely opposed, either. “Could be fun,” Steve said with another shrug.

“Sure,” Bucky said. Natural instincts told him to say no, knowing that a plan like that so far in advance was bound to fall apart, but the quiet romantic side of his brain allowed him to humor Riley, as he continued to spend the rest of the early morning positing hypothetical itineraries for the trip.

Somehow, after the entire summer so far, the thought of ice-fishing with a reality TV producer, a supermodel, and an airline pilot didn’t seem too farfetched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, we love a double-date! 😉
> 
> Definitely a chilled-out, laidback chapter, and with our lovely summer quickly coming to a close, I think we needed it 😅
> 
> As always, I love hearing your thoughts, so feel free to drop a comment! You can also find me @ buckyandthejets on Tumblr
> 
> An important note: For all my incredible readers here who follow the daily updates (first off, wow - I'm still amazed you exist and you make me so incredibly happy), tomorrow's chapter will be posted extra early, quite a few hours earlier than normal. So, make sure you're either subscribed to me or the story and check back early tomorrow, so you don't miss the update. Because wow...tomorrow's chapter is a special one 👀
> 
> 🎧 "Alaska" - Little Hurt
> 
> (Does this song really have anything to do with the story? Not really; you should know that by now! 😅 Nevertheless, it is so incredibly fun and upbeat, and it's really the type of the song that will have you up and dancing alone in your living with the windows wide open, as you imagine a double-date vacation to Alaska)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...For all my fans of the show out there, I know you’ve been waiting for this challenge. To give you a hint, let me just say that you might want to check your Heartrate…❤️


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Feminization - From my research, I don't think I truly need to tag this chapter as this, since anything that could be viewed this way is incredibly minor. Still, there are one or two comments that are made that might lean toward this territory, and when it comes to trigger warnings, I firmly believe that it is better to be safe than sorry. If this is a concern of yours, skip to the end notes where I explain what happens, and you can decide if you need to tread lightly 😊

**Episode 46**

Bucky gladly spent the rest of the afternoon in his double-date in the pool with Steve, Riley, and Sam. At the same time, new girlfriends Carol and Val enjoyed each other’s company, swinging on the porch swing together, lying in each other’s arms. When Thor and Jane returned to the villa, Peggy and Angie were given their own first date. (Apparently, the theme of the day was catching the other couples up so that everyone had a first date under their belt.)

The theme for the evening was a little different.

After finishing a nice family-style dinner, prepared as a joint effort by Thor who served grilled salmon and veggies over rice and Scott who made a fresh salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, with everyone squeezed around the kitchenette picnic table to eat, Val received the text that kicked everything off. “Islanders,” she read out loud with Carol sitting on her lap, “we hope you’re ready to get each other’s hearts racing in tonight’s Heartrate Monitor Challenge! #Costume-Contest #Dirty-Dancing”

As he had grown accustomed to, Bucky cheered along with everyone else despite having no idea what this challenge entailed. Although, from the hashtags, he had an inkling of an idea about this one.

Monty Falsworth separated the twelve into two teams of six, splitting the couples. He led Steve, Sam, Thor, Carol, Hope, and Angie into the house and instructed Bucky, Riley, Jane, Val, Scott, and Peggy to wait outside around the fire pit. Val practically skipped to the semicircle, beaming and buzzing with excited energy like the others, and took her seat with a lighthearted laugh. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!”

“I know right!” Riley said with a squeal.

“I have to admit,” Peggy said, starting off quieter, “I’m a little nervous, but with everyone else doing it too, I think I’ll be okay.”

Seeming to share her nerves, Jane nodded and shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Bucky looked around the bench, wondering how to subtly ask for more details, and then caught Scott’s eye with a smirk. “Alright, who wants to explain the challenge to Bucky?”

“Shoot!” Riley exclaimed while the others laughed. “Sorry, lovebug. That’s usually my job. So, this challenge is real amazing. Right now, our lovely boys and gals are gettin’ ready inside, dressin’ up in the most cliché, slutty little Halloween costumes. Then, one by one, they’ll come out and give us all a little – _performance_. The whole time, the six of us watching will be wearing heartrate monitors to see who makes our hearts pound the fastest. And then we switch. We get all dressed up, and our partners get to watch. In theory, your partner should be the one that raises your heartrate the most, and _your_ heart should be raised the most by your partner. Obviously, we’ll see how that works out.”

“Oh.” Well, that idea was certainly – _interesting_. “And by ‘performance,’ you mean…?”

“Strip tease,” Val supplied immediately.

At the same time, Peggy answered, “Lap dance.”

The others laughed again, and Bucky nodded. “Got it.”

As he settled back on the bench, Bucky realized that this particular challenge was bound to be something else. The thought of Steve emerging from the house in some cheap, revealing costume from Party City and giving him a strip tease and/or lap dance felt as exhilarating as it was terrifying to think that he would be doing the same in reverse. And in front of everyone else! Bucky would be nervous enough to pull off a stunt like this in their own theoretical, private bedroom for a special occasion, maybe an anniversary or Valentine’s Day, but to dress up and dance in front everyone else? _To_ everyone else? This was a new game, altogether.

But, at the end of the day, that was exactly what this would be: a game. A very provocative game that would be played by everyone else and watched by the entire nation.

He could do this; he _had_ to do this.

After getting comfortable with the heartrate monitors in bands that had been strapped around their chests, theorizing with the others what costumes they would be seeing on their partners and what would be available for themselves, music set the tone for the rest of the evening. From unseen speakers hidden in the plastic palm trees, low bass started pounding out the steady, rhythmic pulse of a sultry R&B song. A hush fell over the six around the fire pit, and Bucky’s hand instinctively reached out for Riley’s, squeezing it in support.

Over top of the music, quite jarring and dissonant, a shrill whistle sounded before one particular Islander’s booming voice shouted, “Everybody out of the water!”

At the top of the stairs, beside the kitchenette, everyone looked over to see Thor, dressed as a lifeguard. They applauded with a mix of screams and laughter, turning their attention to Jane who hid her blushing face behind her hands. As he slowly descended the stairs, one by one, with purpose, he gave the others the opportunity to take in the details of his outfit – or lack thereof. Showing off his impressive arms, he wore a tight-fitting, white tank top with a silver whistle around his neck and _short_ , bright red shorts that invited them to peek at plenty of thigh. Bucky chuckled at the white paint down his nose, perfectly selling the look.

Thor reached the bottom of the stairs and stood across from the fire pit with a hand on his hip before asking, “Does anyone need to be rescued?”

While the others squealed and cheered again, Thor took off his cheap, plastic sunglasses and tossed them theatrically to the side, throwing them into the shrubbery. He started the show with his ex-partner Val on the far left, toying with the hem of his shirt and raising it slightly to flash his abs, while rolling his body to the music. Continuing the body-rolls, as if he had done this before, he smoothly turned to Bucky and Riley. “Like what you see?” he asked, raising the tank top higher and leaving it pulled up to his chest.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile, grinning at the sheer ridiculousness of the challenge, and Riley whistled, eyes raking over Thor’s body, enjoying this a little too much.

Apparently taking their reactions as encouragement, Thor lifted the shirt over his head entirely and dangled it in front of Riley’s face before throwing it behind himself and moving on to Peggy and Scott. For them, Thor propped one leg onto the fire pit. Hiking up his shorts to an almost dangerously-short length, he leaned into a lunge and stretched his arms above his head, flexing his biceps in the process. Peggy and Scott laughed in response but still cheered him on when he turned to Jane, whose cheeks were the color of her partner’s shorts.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” Thor asked, playing into the character. When she didn’t reply, he gasped. “I think she needs the Kiss of Life!”

Jane screamed when Thor lifted her into the air without hesitation but smiled when he laid her down the deck, flat on her back. He pretended to give her chest compressions, lightly pumping his hands on her chest, before tipping her head and giving her a searing kiss. It definitely wasn’t proper CPR technique, but it certainly raised Jane’s heartrate, as she appeared breathless when Thor put her back in her seat.

Thor’s performance also clearly raised everyone else’s heartrate, setting the tone and providing a prime example for the others to follow.

Angie exited the house next, wearing a white apron to pay homage to her first job as a waitress, and she emphasized the fact that she was _only_ wearing the white apron by spinning around to show everyone the lacy, pink lingerie set, on full display by the open back. She shimmied and twirled in front of everyone but focused her attention on Peggy who giggled when Angie sat on her lap, grinding to the beat of the song.

Requiring a bit of explanation, Scott laughed when they all saw Hope at the top of the stairs in a yellow-and-black, striped bodysuit with similarly-patterned tights and fuzzy antennae on a headband. “She _loves_ bees!” he explained through another laugh when she approached the fire pit. She buzzed ( _get it?_ ) through the line to give her partner a special waggle dance, showing off where her stinger would be.

Next, Val gasped at the sight of Carol, decked out like a true 90’s grunge rocker. Her eyes were rimmed with dark, smoky charcoal, and she wore a black, leather jacket with silver studs adorning the shoulders. For bottoms, her booty shorts were made of a similar black, leather material with a studded belt, fishnets, and a pair of heels. In front of Val, she abruptly bent down at the waist before snapping her head back and playing with her blown-out, blonde hair. She tossed up the devil horns when she sauntered away.

Two Islanders left meant that the next person would have to be either Steve or Sam, making Bucky and Riley hold each other closer in anticipation.

It turned out to be Sam next, and Riley’s jaw dropped when he descended the stairs. He wore a tuxedo vest without the shirt, bowtie tied around his neck, and a sleek pair of dress pants. In one hand, he clutched a single red rose which he transferred to hold between his teeth, making Riley chuckle. Riley absolutely howled when Sam used his free hands to grab the fabric at his thighs and tear the pants away in one quick move. Screaming in delight, Riley watched Sam throw his pants to the side, revealing black boxer-briefs. Sam gave everyone roughly the same dance, consisting of a lot of gyrating hips, but only Riley received the rose at the end and the sugar-sweet kiss that came with it.

Bucky felt nerves swarm his stomach, knowing exactly who would be at the top of the stairs next.

The other five turned to him, wearing matching smirks, when Steve made his appearance. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Bucky took in the sight of him in similar black slacks compared to Sam’s and a crisp, white dress shirt with a black tie and, on his face, what appeared to be – _glasses?_ Bucky nodded along as Steve carefully undid the tie with each slow step down the stairs, appreciating the professional attire on his boyfriend, like the true nerd he was.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Steve took cues from Thor and threw his fake glasses into the bush before narrowing his eyes at Bucky, apparently taking this challenge seriously. After slipping the undone tie from his neck and popping a button on his collar, Steve held the tie in front of him. He folded the silk in on itself, holding the ends with both hands, pushing the material together, and pulling it taut with a quick _snap_.

The soft fabric didn’t make much of a noise, but the motion clearly conveyed its implications, and – _oh_. Yeah, Bucky definitely felt his heart skip a beat with that move.

Skipping the other Islanders, Steve crawled onto Bucky’s lap, facing him with his knees bracketing Bucky’s thighs. He wrapped the tie around the back of Bucky’s neck and gave it a tug to pull his head forward. Steve took advantage of the new position by latching his teeth on Bucky’s ear, nibbling before whispering in his gravelly, pillow-talk voice, “Have you been waiting for me?”

Bucky imagined that his instant blush represented a clear answer, which he was thankful for, since his tongue felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in his mouth.

Steve leaned back and stood from Bucky’s lap, repositioning himself in front of the whole group again. When he reached for his pants, Bucky wasn’t too surprised to see Steve tear them away into shorts, but he was very surprised when he literally tore off his shirt too, foregoing the buttons and ripping it apart from the middle. Starting with his chest, he revealed a bright blue crop top with a recognizable, red-and-yellow “S” logo in the center.

Eyes widening after Steve dropped the destroyed shirt, Bucky snorted. As much as he tried to be sexy when he danced for the others in his new costume, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at him in a Superman _crop top_. The shorts were far shorter than his usual swim trunks, which clearly showed the difference between his pasty versus slightly-less-pasty skin at the pink tan line that was just above his tattoo. Still, Bucky felt unbelievably proud being the only one who received the full show, as Steve shamelessly thrust his hips and ground his ass into Bucky’s lap.

When he was finished, Steve accepted the applause by taking a bow, face flushed red, and joined Bucky’s side, looping an arm around his neck where the tie loosely hung. Before complimenting him, Bucky smirked. “Is there a reason you went with this particular outfit? Super producer?”

“Y’know, I’ve been told I look like I would make a good superhero,” Steve said with a shrug, “but I figured you just wanted to see my abs.”

The others laughed, but Bucky nodded, playing along. “Well, it _is_ the only thing you got going for you.”

Leaning closer, Steve cocked an eyebrow with a grin. “Joke all you want, but it’s your turn now, sweetheart.”

Of course, Steve was right, and Bucky, along with the other five around the fire pit, now had to get dressed in preparation for their performances. Although the reminder that the pressure was on made Bucky’s anxiety spike, but seeing Steve’s dance helped him take a deep breath when they entered the house. If Steve could do this, Bucky could do this.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Staring down in trepidation at the frankly terrifying array of outfits and props, Bucky could no longer do this. A long table had been assembled in the living room, and its vast display essentially presented a condensed sex shop. On one half of the table, unbranded and plain undergarments had been arranged in a variety of colors and sizes – bras in burgundy, panties in purple, lingerie sets in lime green, as well as boxers and briefs and tank tops galore. Almost everything was frilly, trimmed with lace or satin edging. On the other half, they found the stereotypical, themed costumes, and in the middle were the extra accessories, stockings and hats and fuzzy handcuffs and headbands.

Perhaps, what scared Bucky the most, though, was what was _under_ the table. Assembled neatly in rows were black, patent leather high heels in what looked to be all of their sizes. Actually, he _knew_ that that they were all of their sizes, because they were labeled with Post-It notes. He found his own name beside Riley’s at the end of the row and shook his head. It was a nice gesture for the producers to offer, but it was a gesture that he was going to pass up.

Bucky stood frozen in place while the others swarmed the table, somehow instinctively knowing the outfits they wanted. Scott chose the firefighter costume, “Because why not?”, and Val placed a cowboy hat on top of her head, reaching for the matching fringed jacket, “Because of Carol’s favorite position, right?” Hesitantly, Jane picked up a white lab coat and fake glasses, and Peggy grabbed her labeled heels and an army-green jumpsuit.

“Riley,” Bucky called out weakly, as soon as the others ran to their dressing rooms to change. Seeing as he was still assembling his ensemble, curiously holding up different pieces of lingerie up to his body, Bucky could wait a moment before asking for help with his own. “What are you going to be?”

“Can’t you tell?”

Bucky glanced at the pile he had accumulated in his arms – white booty shorts, a bedazzled white bra covered in clear gemstones that reflected back every shade of the rainbow, and a sheer, lace negligee to go over top. Pursing his lips, Bucky eventually settled on, “Southern-fried whore seems rude, but it’s the only thing I can come up with.”

Rather than take any offense to that statement, Riley laughed and shook his head. He lifted a set of wings on straps, white feathers interspersed with pieces of silver streamers, and shook them in front of Bucky’s face. “Does this give you a clue?”

With a nod, Bucky grinned. “An angel.”

“Not just an angel,” Riley corrected. “ _An_ Angel from Miss Victoria’s little Secret. Get it? ‘Cause of the model thing, duh, but also ‘cause Sammie’s called me angel ever since the very first week we got together.”

Of course, Bucky knew that fact, but he couldn’t help the beaming smile that broke out across his face when Riley squealed in delight when he approved his costume. “So, I’m guessing you want to ask me what _you_ should wear?” Riley asked, stating the obvious.

“Yes, please,” Bucky said through a sigh. As his eyes settled on the table that been messily picked over, he had no idea where to begin.

Thankfully, that was where Riley stepped in. “Well,” he started with a smirk and picked up a certain red headband, “how do you feel about being the devil to my angel?”

Bucky accepted the headband, slipping it past his forehead. “I guess I _am_ feeling horny.”

Letting out an ugly snort, Riley shook his head again and began rifling through the rest of the table. “Do you trust me to pick out the rest for you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Bucky answered without hesitation.

“Perfect.” Taking on the devil role for now, Riley grinned, teeth sharp, and shooed Bucky away with one hand. “Now, go wait in our dressing room, and I’ll bring the finished look up to you.”

Waiting alone in their empty dressing room did nothing to prepare Bucky for the outfit that Riley prepared, but in reality, there was _nothing in the entire universe_ that could have prepared Bucky for the outfit that Riley prepared.

“Riley!” he exclaimed, immediately taking off the headband. “Absolutely not! No way in hell am I wearing that!”

“Oh, come on! You would look _amazing_ , babe!”

“No chance! Steve wouldn’t even like that!”

“What? His boyfriend lookin’ like absolute sex on legs, walking out of his fantasies?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what Steve likes.”

“ _Oh_ , I think I do! I know he loves your legs. He loves your hair, your thighs, your ass. He loves _you_ ,” Riley stated factually, and Bucky felt his own eyebrows shoot high onto his forehead. Riley swatted away his thoughts with a light slap on his arm. “You know what I mean. Steve is going to love whatever you look like, no matter what you’re wearing.”

While that may have been true, Bucky couldn’t bring himself to consider wearing this outfit. “I’ve never worn _anything_ like this, Riley. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Listen,” Riley said, relaxing his tone. “This entire challenge is about stepping out of your comfort zone. This entire _show_ is about stepping out of your comfort zone. No one is wearing anything that they’re really comfortable with, but we’re all pretending that we are, because it’s a game. It’s to make each other laugh and maybe turn on our partners in the process. If you’re truly uncomfortable, though, then we can find something else. But I think you should at least try this first. I really think that once you get it on, you’ll see what I see.”

Bucky spared one last look at the garments in Riley’s hand. He thought back to the table downstairs and realized that there really wasn’t _anything_ down there that he would feel fully comfortable with wearing. He could at least give this one a shot. With a sigh, he nodded. “Okay. Where do we start?”

Riley clapped his hands together before getting serious. “You’re gonna want to take off your shirt.”

Following his instructions, Bucky tossed his t-shirt into the hamper, and as they moved in front of his mirror, Riley stood behind him. Bucky lifted his arms so that Riley could reach around with the fabric, tightly pulling it closed in the back. Sucking in a deep breath, he watched Riley start to lace up the corset, looping the red ribbons through their eyelets in the back, starting at the bottom. When he reached the top, tying the final two ribbons in a bow, Bucky cleared his throat. “Riley, I can’t breathe.”

Stepping back to admire his work, Riley smirked. “That’s a good thing, doll. Would you look at your silhouette?”

The corset clearly did its purpose of cinching his waist into an hourglass shape, and the red and black vertical stripes further helped to create that illusion. Nodding, he checked out the way that the ruffles at the top pulled the muscles of his chest together, creating a shadow that gave him the impression of cleavage. Riley caught him checking out his own chest with a low whistle. “Oh yeah, take a good look. Movin’ up in the world, A-cup. I’d motorboat those puppies.”

“Please never say that to me ever again.” It hurt to suck in air after he laughed, but captivated by his appearance already, Bucky could make do with taking shallower breaths. _Fine_ , _okay_ , he looked hot. He looked better than hot, and he was eager to see what came next. “Now what?”

“Before we move on to your bottom half, I actually have a proposition for you.” Bucky nodded, skipping verbal answers to conserve his air. “How do you feel about shaving your legs?”

_Uh_. Dumbfounded, Bucky stared at him before realizing that he needed to give a proper response to this one. “I’ve never done it before.” He wasn’t entirely sure if he felt comfortable with that idea, but Riley’s eyes were sparkling with possibility. He noticed during their stay at Casa Amor when their legs brushed together on the daybed that Riley shaved his own. So far, Riley hadn’t been wrong, and looking at the other accessories that he had selected for him, Bucky could see how smooth legs would be the most appealing. _Fuck it_. “Okay.”

If anyone had told him in the beginning of this experience that he would be sitting in the Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom beside a supermodel with rose-scented shaving cream covering his legs as they both held disposable razors, Bucky would have laughed.

Well, Bucky was laughing now that they were in that exact position, but he stifled his giggles to keep himself from moving. Riley graciously loosened the corset so that he could sit relatively comfortably in the porcelain, as they tackled one leg each. They had about twenty minutes left to accomplish this feat and finish getting dressed, but they still took their time, moving slowly, careful and precise. The last thing that Bucky needed on top of this outfit was walking out there with little scraps of toilet paper stuck to his bleeding (but smooth!) legs. It took longer than he imagined and burned through quite a few razors, but when they were done, Bucky washed off the rest of the cream with lukewarm water to reveal not a single bump or nick.

_Impressive_.

Bucky ran a hand up his thigh while following Riley back to their dressing room and had to stop in the middle of the hallway. _Oh, fuck_. His skin felt as silky smooth as the satin that made the corset, and running his fingers over it sent a shiver down his spine. Electricity sparked from his own touch; he couldn’t even dream of how Steve’s would feel. As he lightly traced his thigh again and again, he stood in total disbelief. _This had been there the entire time? His entire life?_

Shaking his head out of his daze, Bucky caught up to Riley in front of his mirror and had a confession to admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop touching my legs.”

He readjusted his stance, which caused his calves to rub together, lighting a fire that erupted into fireworks when he squeezed his eyes closed. Clearly watching him struggle to restrain his reaction to the sensation, Riley chuckled. “Oh, trust me, once you shave them the first time, you will never, ever go back.”

_Yeah_ , struggling to catch his breath, made extra difficult by the confines of the corset, Bucky could understand that principle.

Running out of time, Riley handed him the next piece of the outfit without asking and turned his back to change into his own outfit, while Bucky stared down at the briefs. Made of a black satiny material, they technically weren’t even briefs. They were _panties_. And Bucky was going to wear them. Feeling the way that they cradled his ass in the barely-there fabric, Bucky was going to wear them proudly.

Bucky had no chance to consider how comfortably they cradled _everything else_ , because Riley tossed him the next accessory that made him pause. Fishnet stockings. The diamond pattern was wide and cheap, easy to rip through if he wasn’t careful, and well past the point of no return when it came to second-guessing this outfit, Bucky balled up the material of one stocking in his hand and slipped his foot into it, the same way that he had seen Nat hurriedly do this when preparing for a recital. He swallowed the moan that rose in his throat at the _soft, soft, soft_ slide of pulling up the stocking over his bare leg. The stocking stopped mid-thigh, ending in a thick band of decorative lace with scalloped edges, and the band was tight, almost a size too small for his thigh. _Shit_. Angling his single stockinged leg in the mirror, he realized that he looked gorgeous and needed to put the other one on as soon as possible to match.

“Fuck. Me.”

Bucky looked up to see Riley gaping at him in their reflection. Riley was fully dressed, except for the wings, and looking heavenly, divine in the white ensemble. But, before Bucky could offer just one compliment, Riley handed him the _next_ accessory. “Garter straps,” Riley explained and kept two for himself to work on Bucky’s back. “They snap onto your undies and keep your sexy, little tights up while you’re doing your dance. And also look hot as hell.”

Chuckling, Bucky attached his two to his front, connecting them from the bands of the stockings to the bottoms of the panties. _Oof_. With all four in place, he adjusted to the feeling, as they made the fishnets pull tighter on his toes, but the picture they created was more than worth it. That extra detail made the outfit even more perfect.

Riley hummed in approval and retrieved the final main garment. “As much as I love seeing your stunning package out and about, let’s preserve a bit of your modesty with this.”

When Riley first proposed the outfit, this was the part that Bucky was the most worried about, but now that he was in a corset, panties, fishnets, and garter straps, he was more than ready for it. Bucky stepped into the skirt with ease, hiking it up to his waist, and zipping it on the side. Made of three tiers of ruffles and tulle, alternating red and black, it was hardly longer than the underwear, but Bucky assumed that that may have been the point. Riley confirmed that notion. “It’s so perfect, because it covers your front, but from behind,” Riley started and turned him around to finish his point, “you can show off your goodies when you bend over.”

Looking over his shoulder so that he could still see himself in the mirror, Bucky did just that. Bending at the waist revealed – _well_ , his whole ass. When he slipped them on, Bucky had no idea the panties were so…“cheeky.” But that was okay! This is why he did squats.

When he leaned further, Bucky noticed another detail of the underwear that he missed: a cutout of a heart that was filled in by the skin of his lower back. “That’s so cute!”

“Ain’t it?” Riley agreed. Slinging an arm around his shoulders, Riley beamed at him. “I’m so proud of you. You look un-be- _lievable_ right now. Steve’s not gonna be able to handle himself when he sees you out there. Hell, _I’m_ not gonna be able to handle myself when I see you out there.”

Bucky blushed at the reminder that he was going to have to show off this outfit to not only Steve, but the rest of the villa. His competitors, his friends, and oh, right, the rest of the world through the cameras. Swallowing his nerves, he leaned into Riley’s embrace, trying to focus on the positives. “Thanks, Riley.”

Riley nodded, seeming a little nervous, himself. “I have one more suggestion, and I totally understand if it scares you, but at this point, I think you can do it.”

With that lead-up, Bucky already expected to see Riley raise the pair of heels with his name on them. He sighed as the fear returned when he looked at them. “I don’t know, Riley. I’ve never worn heels before.”

“As the world’s leading expert on being a gentleman who wears high heels, I promise you that you can handle these. These are two – maybe three – inch heels. They’ll be a breeze. Anyone can walk in these, and you’ll have plenty of time to practice when you’re pacing around, waiting for your turn.”

Uncertain of his reasoning, Bucky gave one final sigh before extending his hand to take the shoes. He was so far outside the realm of his comfort zone that he was ready to try wearing just about anything at this point. Riley held out his hands to support him when he tentatively slipped into each heel, one at a time. The added two or three inches were certainly a different strain on his legs, making his calves and hamstrings tense, but when he turned back to the mirror, he understood the appeal damn well. Constantly standing at this angle forced the muscles in his legs to always remain flexed, showing off the grooves of his firm quads beneath the stockings and garter straps. He carefully spun around to check out the back, seeing that his ass appeared even tighter under the skirt when he lifted it, perky and on display.

Riley retied the last ribbons at the top of his corset before slipping on his wings and standing beside him to check out their reflections.

Taking in the full image of himself in this outfit, in lingerie, in heels, Bucky smirked. _Goddammit_. He definitely did not need this new kink in his life, but well, what better environment for self-discovery than a reality show?

Next to Riley, they looked ready to take on the entire world and make them bow down at their feet.

Clearly proud of his vision coming to fruition, Riley fluffed out the bottom of Bucky’s skirt, shamelessly peeking at what lied beneath. “ _Mm_. I’d gladly take a bite out of _that_ cupcake.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gave him a playful shove. “Tinkerbell, I would break you.”

Riley shrieked and shimmied his shoulder to bat him with his wings. “There’s my firecracker! So, you’re ready to do this thing?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Bucky said with a shrug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Feminization - So, today's chapter features Pt. 1 of the Heartrate Monitor Challenge! The Islanders are split up by couples, and half sit around the fire pit, while the other half get dressed up in costumes and give everyone strip teases and lap dances. (It's absolutely ridiculous but so fun!) When it is Bucky's turn to dress up, he allows Riley to pick out his outfit which turns out to be a corset, panties, skirt, stockings, garter straps, and high heels. The tight corset obviously pulls his chest together, making it look like cleavage, and Riley jokes that he would motorboat Bucky's chest. That's really it when it comes to the feminization. Aside from those comments, the rest of the chapter just features Bucky wearing the lingerie, which isn't exactly feminization, and no one else makes comments that would allude to him looking like a woman or being a woman. Still, I wanted to give the people who need the warning a chance to review it before reading/skipping the chapter. 
> 
> With that being said, OMG BUCKY!
> 
> If you're unfamiliar with the show, this challenge probably sounds like the most fanfiction-y BS that I made up to imagine the characters in sexy costumes, but NOPE! This is a challenge staple that is just as wild to watch as it is to read 😅
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the first set of Islanders' dances. (Idk why I find it so funny that in a universe where the Marvel characters are normal, everyday people, the DC Comics still exist, but I do find that funny and that obviously inspired Steve's costume 😅But also the professional attire/nerdy glasses look is choice 😉)
> 
> Oh, and Bucky's look is very much inspired by a real outfit worn on the show: Megan Barton's truly iconic look from the Heartrate Monitor Challenge in Season 5. I had to include it, because...wow 😂But also because who doesn't want to picture Bucky in that??
> 
> I'd very much love to know your thoughts, and I'm sure you have them with this chapter 😂Feel free to drop me a comment and chat with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets
> 
> 🎧"Movement" - Hozier
> 
> (How could we not have music for this part! And what better sultry, dance-esque, low-toned alt artist than Hozier 😊)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...I already know y'all are ready to see Bucky dance 😂


	47. Chapter 47

**Episode 47**

Like training wheels, Riley held out his arm for Bucky to cling to while he warmed up to the heels as they walked down the hallway. Each step was more stable than the last, gradually adjusting to continuously walking on his tiptoes. They joined the others in Dressing Room #2, finding the other four fully dressed and listening to Gabe Jones explain the order that they would go outside. At the sound of two pairs of heels on the hardwood, however, the listening stopped, and everyone turned to greet the late-comers at the doorway. Even Jones stopped talking entirely, mouth hanging open before twisting into a smirk. “Right,” he said to finish his thought, “and this is why Bucky is going last.”

Bucky blushed as he looked up to face the rest of his fellow Islanders. Jane, who he hardly knew, stared at him in shock, and Peggy’s face flushed the same shade as her signature lipstick. Val tipped back her hat and blinked, as if it would refocus the image in front of her. “Well, hot damn,” she muttered to herself when the picture presumably didn’t change.

“Yeah, Christ, Bucky!” Scott exclaimed with a chuckle. “You know the challenge is to raise Steve’s heartrate, not stop it, right?”

Jones raised a hand to his earpiece and nodded before impatiently turning his attention back to the group. “Raise it, stop it, either way it’ll make great TV. Scott, you’re up first, and I’ll be coming back for Peggy. If the others want to watch, you can step out onto the balcony but try not to make too much noise.”

As much as Bucky wanted to walk laps around the room to better acquaint himself with the extra height, Riley grabbed Bucky’s hand and hauled him out to the balcony with Val and Jane. Truly, there was barely enough room for four people, but with Val and Jane sitting, Bucky and Riley could stand – with Riley at an angle so that his wings didn’t block Bucky’s view. They could clearly see the others around the fire pit from afar, which made Bucky wonder how he never noticed Steve or the others up there. He wasn’t sure if the thought of Steve watching him receive the first half of dances made him more relaxed or anxious, but what had already happened was no longer relevant.

What was important now was watching Steve receive _his_ dances – and then dancing _for_ Steve.

Taking a more comical approach, Scott toyed with the suspenders of his firefighter costume, snapping them against his bare chest and then flinching away from the exaggerated pain. In her bee costume, Hope laughed and appeared perfectly content to have him dance in her lap.

Peggy stole the spotlight next in her army-green jumpsuit, unzipped at the waist to show off her camo-print bra. Angie saluted her when she joined the fire pit, making the others laugh. Before Bucky could worry about how she would handle this particular lineup, Peggy shimmied in front of everyone, playing along with the game, but she kept her interaction with Steve the shortest, farthest apart. Bucky could definitely respect that choice and would keep that in mind when he inevitably approached Angie.

After Peggy cozied up beside Angie, Jane joined the back deck, descending the stairs with cautious steps. Underneath the lab coat, she revealed a sleek, black dress that was short but fairly modest in comparison to the outfits that surrounded her. Particularly, her half-naked partner who stared up at her in pure adoration, seeming more impressed by her mere presence than the outfit she wore or the way she moved her hips.

While Val straddled Carol’s lap, riding her with a triumphant “Yeehaw!” into the night sky, Jones pulled Riley from the patio. Riley laid a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him one last piece of advice, “Don’t think too much about what you’re doing. Let it flow naturally. If you think about your balance, you’re more likely to fall. And most importantly, have fun with this, okay?”

Bucky nodded, continuing to nod even after Riley stepped back into the dressing room, following the producer. He used his moment alone on the balcony to take what Riley said to heart. While dancing, he _definitely_ did not want to think too much about what he was doing, since there was no way to plan whatever movements his body would make on its own volition. As for his balance, he was actually starting to feel confident in the heels, shifting his weight back and forth with ease.

He could do this; he _had_ to do this. And he could have some fun with it too.

When Riley walked outside, he was immediately greeted with cheers and applause. Every step that he took appeared smooth and calculated but still completely natural, like this was simply just another runway, a part of his day job. Spreading his wings, he opened his arms wide, inviting the others to shower him with their admiration and attention, relishing in the praise.

Bucky wanted to feel that too. He hoped to watch him work the crowd a little longer, checking out his specific moves when he started to dance for Sam, but Jones wrapped his knuckles against the door to the balcony.

The final walk through the house gave Bucky one last dress rehearsal to get used to the outfit and heels. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky silently gasped at his reflection in the mirrors of the dressing room, shocked at his own appearance. But it was a very, very good kind of shock. When they reached the staircase, Bucky realized one challenge that he had forgotten about: the enigmatic equation of stairs plus high heels. He hoped to find the solution by clutching the railing of the staircase with one hand, as he took the stairs one step at a time. When he reached the landing between the two flights, he remembered that outside, though, he wouldn’t have the luxury of a railing. Putting on a brave-yet-somewhat-pained smile, he kept his hands by his sides and tried not to worry about his balance when he descended the final stairs.

Without stumbling once.

_Hey_ , he thought, _that was a good sign_. Riding the high of renewed confidence, he followed Jones through the living room and picked up a red, feather boa on a whim. He tossed it around his neck when they made it to the bedroom. At the French doors leading to the outside, leading to his fate, Bucky attempted to settle his nerves. Distracting himself, he noticed the grin on Jones’ face when he shook his head while glancing at him from the side. “What?” Bucky asked. “Is something wrong?”

Jones shook his head again, refusing to meet his eyes. “No, no. Nothing wrong. I’m just feeling really happy about my choice for the number one couple this season.”

Bucky had no time to consider what Jones was quite explicitly implying, because he raised his hand to his ear, apparently receiving the message to give Bucky the green light. _Shit_. This was it. This was really happening. There was no turning back now. And Bucky was okay with that.

When Jones opened the doors for him, Bucky readjusted his devil horns, took a deep breath, and stepped outside.

The ivy-lined pathway acted as a final runway, allowing Bucky to build up confidence with his heels on the patio without the watchful eyes of the others. This was his opportunity to get into character. _Slutty Bucky_. He racked his brain for examples of strip teases and sexy dances he had seen in various forms of media. Admittedly, he had watched _Magic Mike_ with Nat, late at night when they were drunk on summer shandy, mostly to make fun of it (…mostly), but that was obviously a ‘traditional’ and stereotypical view of stripping. _Burlesque_ came to mind, but even after finding a level of comfort in the corset and skirt, he could never compare himself to Cher. _Showgirls_ was another movie that he had heard of but had never seen, so that thought wasn’t too helpful, but hell, in a pinch, he could always recall the moves from some of his favorite _Drag Race_ lip syncs, right?

Taking in as much air as he possibly could without puncturing a lung on his ribcage, Bucky sucked in another breath before rounding the corner and taking his first step where everyone could see him.

At first, he heard no response from the others, which was, in itself, a response. Excited, distant chatter gave way to stunned silence. It amplified the sound of Bucky’s heart pounding in his chest, thudding against his eardrums. He pushed through the naturally-rising anxiety, forcing himself to listen to something else that was louder than the blood rushing through his veins. _That’s right_ , there was music playing, and – _oh_ , he actually liked this song. If Nat was there, she would tell him to feel the rhythm through his body, embody the spirit and move through the music, allowing the melody to guide him. Attempting to do just that, he let a smile grace his face and sighed in relief when he reached the bottom of the first of three sets of stairs.

Stepping forward on the landing, getting closer and closer to the others with each step, Bucky shifted the boa back further on his shoulders, slipping the feathers down his back like a shawl. That move earned him a whistle from someone in the group which refueled his confidence. He didn’t look up to see who it was from, knowing it wasn’t Steve, and kept his eyes on the stairs. Heeding Riley’s warning, he wasn’t too worried about his balance, but he still wanted to make sure that he wasn’t overshooting a step.

(Although, falling down the final flight was certainly one way to increase everyone’s heartrates.)

Thankfully, for everyone involved, his heels hit the patio fall-free, and finally, only a few feet away from the fire pit, tossing his hair back in the process, he lifted his head. The half who had already seen him in the dressing room still appeared shocked, eyes wide and mouths open, and the other half – _well_ , the other half looked the same.

In the exact center of the semi-circle, Steve was the only outlier. Whereas the others openly displayed their surprise, Steve internalized his own. Bucky would have assumed that he appeared unimpressed, showing no indication of interest, if they just met, but after a month of living together and _being_ together, Bucky knew precisely where to look to interpret his emotions. Bucky had never seen his eyes so dark. Conveying such a raw and burning hunger, black eclipsed the serene blue, and it made Bucky feel that he had made the right decision.

It made Bucky feel like he had _won_.

Bucky took advantage of the reassurance and cocked a hip out to the side, propping a hand on his exaggerated waist. Pushing all reason and logic to the back of his mind, letting Slutty Bucky take over, he heard a voice that didn’t belong to him utilize his mouth to say in a tone that had no place outside of the bedroom, dripping in sin, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

While the others snapped their gazes over to Steve, wondering how he would react, Steve simply remained transfixed on Bucky, and the miniscule twitch in the corner of his mouth slowly became a self-satisfied smirk. He leaned back, slightly raising one eyebrow in a wordless-but-still-plenty-demanding, _Come hither_.

Mentally adding another tally to his personal side of their unspoken scoreboard, Bucky shook his head, willing to play Steve’s game but only by his own rules. He started with the three couples on his right, toying with one end of the boa, swinging it in front of Val and Carol’s faces to make them giggle, as they leaned into each other. In front of Hope and Scott, he raised the boa above his head, stretching out his arms while rolling his body to the sensual bassline of the music, before he turned to Peggy and Angie and wrapped the feathered accessory around their necks. Allowing them to keep it, Bucky shot Peggy a wink.

He then moved to the other end of the bench, purposefully ignoring Steve in the middle. For these last two couples, Bucky knew that he needed to up the ante and felt comfortable doing so with the three that Steve knew well. For Jane’s sake, though, Bucky simply slipped off the headband and placed it on her head, leaning back to shake out his curls. Moving on to her partner, someone who had already made Steve jealous, Bucky had something a bit more devious in mind. Bucky caught Steve’s eye with an innocent grin as he turned around and promptly bent over, feeling the skirt ride up when he grasped the edge of the unlit fire pit. Behind him, Thor chuckled – a deep rumble, low in his throat, like thunder. Reminded of grinding against him on the dance floor, Bucky moved his hips in similar motions, thrusting his ass back further into Thor’s face until he felt a breeze pass over the heart on his lower back, _exposed_.

Playing perfectly into his plan, Bucky heard Steve mutter under his breath, “Watch your fucking hands there, _friend_.”

Bucky glanced over his shoulder to see Thor’s hands retreating, palms raised, as he apologetically shook his head in Steve’s direction. Pouting, with one finger sweetly raised to his cheek, Bucky looked Steve in the eye when he used his other hand to swat a _different_ cheek, freely doing what Thor was told not to do. The slap rang out into the night sky. Someone gasped and Thor let out a louder chuckle, but Steve gave no reaction, aside from a slight narrowing of his eyes, like this was something that they would discuss later.

Having tortured Steve enough with Thor, he moved on to Riley, spinning back around to face the person he had to thank for this wonderful outfit. He began his ‘thank you’ by leaning forward, using his biceps to further shove his pecs together and shimmying into Riley’s face, perhaps bringing to life a suggestion someone made earlier when he first tied the corset. Riley shrieked with laughter before playfully rubbing his face against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky didn’t bother checking Steve’s reaction before sliding over to Sam. Bolder, he traced his index finger along Sam’s jawline, tipping back his head to make sure he was looking at Bucky’s face. In one quick, confident movement, Bucky raised one stockinged leg and brought his heel down onto the bench in the space between Sam and Steve. Bucky watched Sam’s eyes widen and leaned into the stretch. Dropping the hand at his chin, Bucky trailed his hand down Sam’s arm, fingertips lightly dancing across his bare skin. He stopped at Sam’s hand and lifted it _for_ him, dragging it to the leg on display. Together, Bucky guided Sam to move his hand up his leg, running along the fishnet pattern, before coming to rest on his thigh.

Right in front of Steve, right where Steve’s hand belonged.

Knowing that Steve’s blood was boiling at the sight of another man’s hands on his favorite part of his boyfriend’s body, Bucky smiled at Steve innocently when he shifted Sam’s hand up to the garter strap. He pinched their fingers together, lifted the band of fabric, and let it snap back down against his leg. Bucky hummed at the light tingling sensation but felt far more satisfied by the way that Steve flinched away from the sound of the strap snapping against his skin, finally showing a crack in the blasé demeanor.

Tired of playing this game, Bucky couldn’t keep himself from Steve any longer. He pulled away from Sam and took the final step to present himself in front of Steve. Breaking into a genuine grin, forgetting his character for a brief moment, Bucky climbed into Steve’s lap, straddling his waist. Bucky placed his palms on Steve’s shoulders and shoved him backward on the bench before nosing along his ear, nipping the lobe. “I know you want me,” Bucky whispered, but judging by the whistle he heard from someone else, he may have said that louder than he intended.

Regardless of the volume he used to tease Steve, a pretty pink flush spread across Steve’s face, which was exactly the reaction he had hoped to see.

With one final stunt in mind, Bucky slipped out of Steve’s lap and slid down to the ground, swiveling his hips. On his knees in front of Steve, spreading his thighs apart with his hands, Bucky felt suddenly reminded of a certain moment spent together in the shower. (Seeing the blush deepen to a bright red, eyes downright ravenous, Steve must have been reminded of it too.) Bucky embraced the imagery of that evening by reaching for Steve’s hand. In the same way that he guided Sam’s, Bucky curled the rest of Steve’s fingers, so that he only extended his index and middle fingers. Without thinking in the slightest about how the others were watching, Bucky pulled Steve’s hand closer to his face and sucked Steve’s fingers into his mouth. Bucky enjoyed the heft of Steve’s long, thick fingers weighing on his tongue and licked off the thin layer of sweat, while watching through his eyelashes as Steve swallowed, struggling to maintain composure.

Before things became any more obscene, _too_ obscene, Bucky pulled Steve’s fingers out of his mouth with an audible pop. Bucky bit his bottom lip before smirking. “Did I raise your heartrate, baby?”

That question caused Steve to forfeit the game, completely breaking character, as he shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. He raised one hand to his chest while he chuckled and encouraged Bucky to stand with the other. After Steve made room for him to sit beside him and Sam, Bucky took his natural spot, tucked into Steve’s side, proudly grinning when Steve said, “Yeah, Buck. I think you definitely did, sweetheart.”

Braving the reactions of the others, Bucky ducked his head at the sight of his fellow Islanders nodding slowly, appearing changed. _Different_. The atmosphere was definitely tense, almost awkward, heightened with a shared intimate energy, before Scott broke the spell with a snort. “I think we’re all going to need the fucking medic after that.”

Bucky and Steve joined the others as they laughed, clearing the air, before everyone immediately launched into questions-and-answers, revolving quite heavily around Bucky’s little routine. As Bucky was in the middle of explaining that the outfit was entirely Riley’s idea, Gabe Jones interrupted them and handed the results to Riley to read from notecards.

Riley beamed down at the cards, face lighting up from the power, practically bouncing in his seat when Jones gave him the ‘okay’ to read them out loud. “Alrighty, starting with Jane and Thor,” he began. “Jane, your heartrate was raised the most by Thor, and Thor, your heartrate was raised the most by…Bucky.”

Feeling another wave of heat rush to his face, while the others applauded on instinct, Bucky ducked his head again, knowing that he had to apologize to them.

“Next, Scott, your heartrate was raised the most by Hope, and Hope, your heartrate was raised the most by…me!”

The model and model’s daughter high-fived over the fire pit, and the other Islanders clapped for them.

“Val, your heartrate was raised the most by Carol, and Carol, your heartrate was raised the most by…Bucky.”

_Jesus Christ_ , Bucky wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or proud. Making him lean more toward the positive option, Val and Carol laughed together, smiling in Bucky’s direction.

“Peggy, your heartrate was raised the most by Angie, and Angie, your heartrate was raised the most by…Val.”

Seeming perfectly content with that outcome, they giggled, still wrapped in Bucky’s boa, and the two couples nodded together.

Riley took a deep breath before reading out the next results and tried on a more serious tone. “Sam, your heartrate was raised the most by…Bucky.” Reminding himself of another apology to give, Bucky watched Sam’s face fall, but Riley shook his head and excitedly grasped his boyfriend’s hand. “But that’s okay! Because _my_ heartrate was raised the most by Bucky!”

The whole group applauded as they watched them share a kiss, lips hardly touching because they were snickering too much.

With one result left to read out, Steve squeezed Bucky’s thigh, as if _finally_ getting relief after watching the others touch him there throughout the game. Riley composed himself enough to say, “Bucky, your heartrate was raised the most by…Steve.” Bucky sighed, releasing the breath that he held in his chest, even tighter due to the corset. “And, Steve…” Riley paused, dragging out the dramatic tension for the final note, “your heartrate was raised the most by…Bucky!”

While their fellow Islanders cheered for them, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck when Steve pulled him in for a hug. They gave each other a quick peck when they separated – the first time they had kissed all evening – and gleefully melted into each other’s embrace.

But Riley still had one notecard left in his hands. He smirked and passed it to Bucky. “How about you read this one, doll.”

Bucky shrugged, accepting the card, and felt his eyebrows raise high onto his forehead when he read the words to himself, processing them before announcing it to the others. “Congratulations, Bucky and Steve. As the only couple who exclusively raised each other’s heartrates, you will be spending the night together in the Hideaway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get. Ready. 
> 
> Welcome back to our regularly-scheduled episodes! (Turns out sleep is delightful, who knew?) I hope you enjoyed Bucky going down in history as giving one of the greatest Heartrate Challenge performances EVER, and hopefully, you agree 😅
> 
> We got the other Islanders' reactions, the producer's reactions, and Steve's reaction, so now, I would love to know your reaction 😂 Drop a comment if you can, and you chat with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets 
> 
> Next time on Love Island...y'all already know 😉


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of our next very explicit chapter, please take a look at our fun new tags 👀
> 
> Again, I really appreciate it if you would please only read/comment if you are 18+
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy a lovely trip to the Hideaway!

**Episode 48**

“What do I wear?”

Riley blinked rapidly at Bucky in their dressing room, like he had subconsciously hearkened back to one of his undergrad electives and asked that question in Russian. “The hell do you mean what do you wear? Ideally, this trashy little number on the way in and then _nothing_ on the way out.”

“I know, I know,” Bucky said. “I mean, what about for the morning? Should I bring a change of clothes?”

In the middle of changing, himself, getting ready for bed by switching out the lingerie for a t-shirt, Riley paused and turned away from his closet to face Bucky. He placed his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and lowered his voice. “Doll, for the love of all that is righteous and holy in this world, do yourself a favor and turn your goddamn brain off.”

Shaking his head with an exasperated sigh and laugh, Bucky acknowledged the nerves that were overpowering his system as soon as he read out their reward. “I know. I’m just – _nervous_ , I guess. It’ll be our first time together, and I don’t want to mess anything up. Obviously, we’ve done things already, but not like – you know,” Bucky trailed off with a shrug.

“Oh, I know, honey. Trust me, I was nervous as hell for my first time with Sammie, but hey, we knew each other for like a _week_ and you and Steve have known each other for a whole month. If we’re still fine, you’ll be fine.” When Bucky nodded, Riley gave him a darker grin, “Plus, you two can get real cozy, knowing that while you’re in the luxury of a private bedroom, the rest of us sorry assholes have to be horny in the _communal_ bedroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at that reminder. “That’s very true. God bless a soundproof room.”

“Mhm,” Riley hummed in agreement. “Now, stop yapping at me, and go have fun with your boyfriend. This is a really special moment for you two, and it’ll be amazing, okay? Just remember that communication is key.”

Swallowing his nerves, Bucky accepted Riley’s hug and nodded, taking his words to heart.

Downstairs, Bucky found Steve alone on the couch in the living room, changed into a tight black t-shirt and his usual-yet-ever-so-sexy boxer-briefs. Unlike at the top of the deck stairs, Bucky could clearly see the exact moment when Steve noticed him, and it was delightful. His expression wavered between excitement and shock, like he had forgotten that Bucky was wearing this outfit or perhaps assumed that he would change too.

Testing his own confidence, Bucky extended a hand to help Steve out of his seat, waggling his fingers to encourage him to take it. Twirling a strand of hair around his finger with his other hand, demure, he asked, “Are you ready for me?”

Steve clucked his tongue and used Bucky’s hand to help him stand. “Baby, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my entire life.”

Bucky intended to drag Steve to the Hideaway, teasing him along the way as he did when dragging him up the stairs on his birthday, but Steve interrupted him when he headed on instinct to the regular bedroom. “Wrong way, sweetheart.”

_Whoops_.

Chuckling, Steve took the lead. “Allow me to show you to our suite for the evening, my dear.”

Thrilled to see Gentleman Steve make an appearance, Bucky gladly followed him down the hallway that he had yet to traverse. _Hot & Heavy_, so wonderfully-subtle, was written along the wall in loose cursive, like the rest of the stickers around the house, and _The Hideaway_ was clearly written on the door. Finally in the presence of the mystical room, Bucky could feel the magic in the air, the energy humming and crackling against his skin, making the hair on his arms rise. Steve, seeming less impressed, propped the door open with a smirk. “After you.”

The room was completely different from the rest of the house. Where the other rooms were comprised of stark white walls, clean and clinical decorations, arranged as a staged set, this room conveyed an immediate sense of warmth. Wood panels lined the walls, lit by dim and golden lighting at the bottom of each panel, almost rustic. Furniture was sparse with a small circular table set up in the corner with two cozy, leather armchairs around it. Obviously, the focal point of the room was the massive bed, sunken into the floor, centered on the wall that held a unique, metallic art piece – gold material, folded like an accordion. Bucky hardly paid the modern art any attention, focusing intently on taking in the details of the bed where they would soon lie. Truly but delightfully cliché, rose petals had been scattered across a champagne-colored, synthetic fur blanket that appeared so incredibly soft that Bucky could probably run his hands along it for hours. Beneath the blanket were the red, satin sheets that Steve hinted at in what felt like another lifetime. All they needed was a bottle of champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and a roaring fireplace for the romance novel picture to be complete.

“Not too bad, huh?” Steve asked, closing the door behind them with a satisfying click.

Bucky shook his head and grinned. “Yeah, I think I could spend a night here.”

“Good,” Steve chuckled. “Can I show you the best part?”

“You mean, aside from the bed and aside from you?”

“Flatterer. C’mere.”

Steve led him to the corner of the room where one of the wood panels had a handle. When he pulled it, Steve revealed a small, built-in closet with three shelves. On the top shelf, what looked to be all of the toys from the table of costumes from earlier had been rearranged – the fuzzy handcuffs, extra boas, feather teasers – and _then some_. Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked over riding crops and plugs and floggers with leather tassels. “Jesus, do people actually use this stuff in here?”

“Not often,” Steve said with a shrug, “but regardless of it’s used or not, we always buy them new for each couple. Anything catch your eye?”

A bit overwhelmed, Bucky bit his lip as he struggled to process the limitless possibilities, possibilities that he never even considered. “I don’t know. Did you have something in mind?”

With a slow nod, Steve turned back to Bucky, greeting him with the return of his smirk. “I think some of this would be fun to experiment with another day, but tonight, the only toy I want is you."

Bucky wondered if the temperature of the room was also higher than the rest of the house, as he blushed, but he nodded at Steve. “Sounds good to me.”

“Great,” Steve said and wasted no time before gesturing to the second shelf, repeating a question that Bucky had asked him nearly a month prior in a drastically different context, “What’s your flavor?”

_Damn_ , Bucky’s blush deepened as he eyed the shelf that was entirely stocked with neatly-arranged bottles of lube. Half of them were flavors that he didn’t even know existed. “Cherry’s a classic, but y’know, it’s still a vacation in paradise. How does piña colada sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Steve said, grabbing the bottle and tossing it on the bed, which left one shelf to discuss, full of boxes of condoms in various sizes. “So, you and I both know that to be allowed on the show, you have to pass certain health screenings. Seeing as we’re both here, we obviously know each other’s results, so we don’t have to use these. Unless you want to! If you do, then we can absolutely–”

Bucky shook his head to cut him off, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with a shy smile. “We don’t have to use them.”

“Awesome,” Steve said and chuckled at himself, perhaps realizing that he sounded a bit _too_ excited about that response.

Feeling the same nervous energy jittering in his stomach, Bucky rested a comforting hand on his arm and glanced at the bed. “You ready?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve mused, apparently finding his confidence, as he backed Bucky up until the backs of his legs touched the bed, “I’ve been ready since the day I met you.”

Steve pressed his hands flat against Bucky’s shoulders, giving him a gentle shove, and Bucky laughed when his back hit the unbelievably soft blanket. Equally-unreal, Steve joined him and silenced his laughter with a hungry kiss. Bucky hummed contentedly at the feeling of his favorite lips moving desperately against his own, causing vibrations to erupt between them, shocking them both. With a gasp, Steve pulled away and nipped Bucky’s bottom lip in retaliation, which only made Bucky giggle until Steve thrusted his tongue into his mouth, and Bucky had no other option than to enjoy that experience. Steve wound one hand into Bucky’s hair, holding the back of his head to keep him in place, and with the other, he gripped Bucky’s chest before moving down his side and stopping at his waist. Steve squeezed his hip before pulling away again, forcing Bucky to come tumbling after him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve laughed at Bucky’s disappointed groan. “Before we get too far, we should probably talk about boundaries and expectations, right?”

_Ugh_ , Bucky thought, _his boyfriend was so damn gorgeous and responsible_. Nodding, knowing that he was absolutely correct, Bucky allowed Steve to help sit them back up on the edge of the bed. “Definitely.”

The hand that Steve kept on Bucky’s waist slipped down to his thigh and started running along the edge of the stocking. Bucky saw precisely when Steve realized that his legs were shaved beneath the stockings with a curious, questioning shift in his eyebrows before his face gave way to a satisfied, pleasantly-surprised smirk. Clearly distracted, Steve continued to stroke Bucky’s thigh, hauling his leg onto his lap for easier access before remembering why he moved them into this position. “Right, so I don’t anticipate us doing anything too wild, but if I do or say anything that worries you or bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, please do not hesitate to tell me. I’ll stop immediately, and we’ll readjust if you still want to continue.”

Bucky nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, and likewise, I want you to feel comfortable with this at every step. If something’s not working for you, let me know.”

With a light sigh, Steve shook his head, almost disbelieving. “God, you’re so perfect.”

Bucky thought of a hundred ways that he could counter that statement, but not in this moment. Now, he gladly accepted Steve’s sweet kiss before asking a question of his own. “Is there anything in particular that, like – _really_ gets you going?”

Ducking his head, Steve’s face flushed pink, and he paused his perpetual motion on Bucky’s leg for a moment. “Okay, so you kinda brushed on it earlier today without maybe knowing it, but there is something that I don’t mind being called in bed.”

“Oh, really?” Bucky recalled the events of the heartrate monitor challenge like a fever dream, trying to remember in the haze when he called Steve any sort of name. _Super?_ But in startling clarity, he realized that maybe Steve wasn’t referring to the challenge but earlier in the day when they had a heated conversation. Bucky smirked and lowered his lashes, as he dropped his voice to a tantalizing and exaggerated whisper. “I can do that for you, _Daddy_.”

Steve’s blush deepening only confirmed Bucky’s guess further. “I’m not saying like you absolutely have to call me that, but if it happens to slip out of your mouth at some point, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“Got it,” Bucky said with a chuckle.

“And what about you? Is there anything specific that you like? Is _this_ something that you really like?” Steve asked, gesturing to the outfit that Bucky had almost completely forgotten that he was wearing.

Bucky looked down at the corset and skirt and stockings and _heels_ that he had yet to kick off, and he answered honestly. “Not necessarily. I’ve never actually worn anything like this before. Do you like seeing me like this, though?”

“I do,” Steve said, giving his thigh a quick squeeze to prove it. “You look incredible in this.”

Bucky shrugged. “Then, I like it.”

With a smile, Steve shook his head. “I don’t want you to like it just because I like it. I want you to feel comfortable in wearing a costume like this, because _you_ like it, not me.”

_Steve_ , again, as always, so perfect, and Bucky couldn’t help but match his grin. “Fine. I _do_ like it, just for me. I never would have guessed it, but I think it makes me look hot.”

“Oh, Buck. You look much better than ‘hot.’ You look so fucking sexy it should be illegal, because the things it makes me want to do to you are so disgusting. But I think you’ll look just as good without all of this, too.”

When Steve reached behind him to tug the bow free at the top of the corset, Bucky involuntarily let out a sigh of relief, finally able to fill his lungs to full capacity, but he stopped him from undoing the laces any further. “Wait, I don’t want to take it off yet. I want to do something for you first. Can I, uh, give you the dance that I think you deserved tonight?”

Eyebrows rising, Steve held up his palms. “By all means, baby.”

Bucky rose and led him to the end of the bed before standing in front of him. Without the music, getting into a groove was slightly more difficult, but the proud hunger in Steve’s eyes gave all the encouragement Bucky needed to start moving his hips. Keeping his hands on Steve’s shoulders and bending slightly at the waist, Bucky swayed his hips and lowered his voice. “So, you like it when your boyfriend dresses all slutty for you?”

Steve grinned, looking over the frills and ribbons of the corset and behind him at the raised skirt. “Oh, I sure do, Buck.”

_Good_. Bucky spun on his heel, tossing his hair behind him to look at Steve over his shoulder. “But you want to see more of me, huh?” he asked, pulling the laces at his back apart until it was loose enough to pull over his head.

As he tossed the corset onto the floor, Bucky turned again to watch Steve’s eyes eagerly trace over the smooth muscles of his chest and stomach. He followed the line of Steve’s gaze with one finger slowly running up the center of his torso, stopping when he reached his chest. Biting his lip, Bucky watched Steve swallow hard at the sight of him rolling one of his nipples between his finger and thumb, pinching it until the bud pebbled beneath his own touch. After tweaking the other the same way, letting out a short and breathy moan at the tingling sensation, Bucky dropped his hand to the lowest ring of tulle on the skirt, toying with the ruffles.

“You wanna fuck me in my pretty, little skirt? Wanna take a peek underneath?”

Eyes dark, tracking the movement of Bucky pulling down the zipper on the side, Steve made a low grunt in the back of his throat. He took an unsubtle deep breath when Bucky dropped the skirt to the floor and kicked the skimpy fabric to the side, leaving him standing in just the stockings, heels, and satin panties. From the sound of Steve’s groan alone, Bucky could feel himself growing hard, straining against the silky material for Steve to clearly see.

As much as it pained him to look away, Bucky turned again but made up for it by bending as far as he did in the challenge, shaking his ass in Steve’s face as he did for Thor. Unlike Thor, however, Steve brought up his hands to the backs of Bucky’s thighs. Encouraged by the touch, Bucky shimmied his hips again, and Steve rewarded him by kneading his thumbs into the firm muscle of his cheeks, slipping beneath the lines of the underwear. Bucky moaned when Steve gave him a light tap on one cheek. He gasped in delight when Steve’s palm struck the other one harder, a hint more of a sting, allowing the slap to ring out in the room.

“You didn’t like it that the others got to see me like this, huh?” Bucky found the audacity to tease.

Steve rubbed his thumbs into the muscles again, digging into the flesh where Bucky assumed a pink handprint was starting to form. “You know I didn’t like it. You did it just to make me angry. And you know why I felt angry?”

Stifling a moan when Steve pressed even harder, Bucky humored him. “Why?”

Gravelly, Steve’s voice sounded deathly serious. “Because you’re mine. _All this?_ ” Steve asked himself, pinching both cheeks. “ _Mine_. Only mine.”

Bucky could no longer keep himself quiet and allowed the moan to fall out of his open mouth. Ever since the very beginning, Bucky absolutely _died_ , knees weak, when Steve acted so territorial over him, treating him like he belonged to him. His plaything. His boyfriend. His _everything_. “Yes,” Bucky said through a sigh. “I’m yours. I’m all yours, Daddy.”

“Oh, fuck. Baby, I can’t take it anymore. C’mere.”

Steve spun him around by the hips and pulled him forward onto his lap. Straddling his thighs, Bucky couldn’t help but grind down, rubbing themselves together through both layers of fabric until he saw sparks. Steve groaned and crashed their mouths together, wet and messy and far too fast. Running his hands down Steve’s back, Bucky found the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up as much as he could without Steve’s help. Reluctantly, Steve broke the kiss for him to throw the shirt off to the side, and when it landed on the floor, he grabbed Bucky by the back of the neck and tugged his head, fingers locked in his hair. The slight pain was exactly enough pressure for Bucky to let out another moan, growing louder when Steve’s lips attached to his throat, nipping and nibbling. Giving Steve all of the trust that he could offer, Bucky arched his back so that he could have complete access to his neck to mark however he wanted.

Purple bruises that could be followed in the pattern of a constellation; Bucky smirked at that thought.

After a particularly harsh bite, Steve pulled away. “I want to get you ready now. I need you.”

Bucky nodded, understanding his code, and slid off of his lap. When his heels hit the floor, Bucky still needed to hold onto Steve’s broad shoulders for support, finding his legs to feel a bit like liquid. He stepped out of the high heels first and couldn’t believe how different it felt for his feet to be planted flat on the floor after being in a permanent lift for the past couple hours. Unlatching the garter straps, Steve stopped him. “Take off the underwear, but leave these on,” he instructed, slipping a finger into the lace band of one of the stockings and letting it snap back against his thigh.

_Oh_ , Bucky could gladly follow that order.

While he undid the four stupidly-tedious, little straps and dropped the panties to the floor, Steve shucked off his own briefs, leaning back on the bed toward the pillows and popping the cap on the lube. He gave it a curious sniff and shrugged. “Good choice,” he reported back, but when he looked up to see Bucky waiting for him, he froze, mouth gaping.

Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, Bucky blushed. Somehow, wearing only the stockings made him feel even more exposed than if he was fully nude. “Are you ready for me, Daddy?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve smirked, crooking a finger to beckon him over, “you don’t have to ask.”

Bucky grinned as he climbed onto the bed and met Steve with a kiss. It was softer and sweeter than the ones they had shared earlier but nonetheless filled with passion. When they pulled apart, Steve wasted no time maneuvering Bucky into place, flipping him onto his stomach and tucking his knees under him. Bucky giggled at his urgency and folded his arms onto the pillow, resting his head comfortably despite being forced so open, while Steve crawled over to sit between his legs. Bucky glanced over his shoulder to see him rubbing lube between two fingers to warm it – _so perfect_ – and excitedly waited for what was to come.

A few seconds after he anticipated it, he gasped at the still slightly-cool feeling of Steve’s fingers finally touching him. Steve lightly circled the ring of muscle without applying too much pressure, warming him up while teasing him at the same time. After going back for more lube, Steve finally, _finally_ slipped the tip of his finger inside of him.

Eyes fluttering closed, Bucky hummed contentedly. It had been a while since he had fingered himself, definitely not after the show had started filming, and it had been even longer since someone else had fingered him. Regardless, he was more than ready for Steve to push the finger deeper, and he instinctively clenched around it. “This okay?” Steve asked, ducking down to press a feather-light kiss against his lower back.

Bucky hummed again, enjoying the feeling. Steve’s finger was thick and filled him nicely, but he still needed, “More.”

Chuckling, Steve obliged and carefully slipped in the tip of his second finger, whispering playfully, “ _Needy_.”

“Yup,” Bucky agreed instantly with a nod. “That’s me.”

Soon, Steve slid his middle finger parallel to the other and allowed Bucky to adjust to the tighter fit before moving them. He slowly scissored them, stretching Bucky open, and when he curled his fingertips _just right_ , searching for that spot and finding it like they had been together for years, Bucky gasped.

Gripping the sheets tighter, red satin slipping from his grasp, Bucky saw stars light up behind his eyelids. “ _Yes_ , Steve, right there.”

Even with his back to him, Bucky could feel Steve’s smirk when he brushed over his prostate again and again, increasing his pace and setting off every nerve in his body with each pass. Before he even realized it, Bucky found himself rutting against the mattress, shamelessly humping the satin sheets in time with Steve’s fingers.

Steve appeared to notice, placing a hand on his waist to hold him still. “One more finger, Buck. You can handle it.”

Bucky knew that he could handle it, probably needed it too, knowing how Steve felt in his hand and mouth, but he still gave a petulant groan, almost a whine, at Steve preventing him from chasing his release.

But he quickly dropped the attitude when Steve added a third finger with more lube, and _oh_ , this stretch required more time to adjust. Bucky took slow, careful breaths, relaxing himself into getting comfortable with Steve’s fingers plugging him so full. Steve appeared to be waiting for that moment as well, and Bucky nodded when he reached it. “I’m good, baby.”

Steve still waited a beat longer before moving his fingers again, slight movements that went right up his spine and right to his dick. Finding the rhythm he reached before, Steve just as easily found Bucky’s prostate again, rubbing it with vigor. Moaning desperately, Bucky scrambled to clutch the sheets. “ _Oh_ , Steve!” he called out like a prayer.

Letting out a groan of his own, Steve sounded to be affected in the same way by the relentless circular motions. “Bucky, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good for me. Such a pretty picture you’re making for me. Wish you could see it.” As Bucky whined at the praise, Steve gave another low groan, something more guttural this time, more starved. “Oh, _fuck_. I need a taste.”

Bucky whimpered when Steve removed his fingers, but he instantly made up for it when Bucky felt the wet heat of Steve’s tongue flat against his hole. “ _Oh!_ ” Bucky cried out when Steve hiked his ass higher into the air, forcing him to lean onto his forearms.

With a pleased hum, Steve buried his face between his cheeks, spreading them apart with his hands. Hungrily, Steve lapped at the muscle, circling the ring before dipping his tongue inside, right where his fingers had been. Unlike his fingers, the feeling was different, sloppier but _so fucking good_. Bucky sighed and dropped his head to revel in the firecrackers bursting beneath his skin each time Steve thrusted his tongue inside his hole, sucking when he pulled away, like he was savoring the taste of pure _Bucky_.

Steve leaned back with an obscene slurp, and before Bucky could complain about the sudden loss, Steve shoved two fingers back into him and licked around them. Soon, finding a comfortable position for him, Steve slipped his tongue inside, along with his fingers, fucking Bucky with his fingers _and_ tongue.

Bucky couldn’t take it.

“Steve! I – _oh!_ ” Not even sure what he was trying to say, Bucky cut himself off when his speech trailed off into a sharp moan, struggling to cope with the dual sensations – Steve’s steady fingers strumming over his prostate and Steve’s wriggling tongue laving over anything he could possibly taste. It was perfectly overwhelming, overwhelmingly perfect, but he needed – _he needed_ , “Steve, more!”

With another crude slurp, Steve pulled out his fingers and gave Bucky’s hole a wet kiss. Chest heaving, Bucky craned his neck to watch Steve suck his own fingers into his mouth, as Bucky had done earlier around the fire pit. Steve moaned at Bucky’s taste, licking his fingers clean, before hauling Bucky up to his knees and pressing their mouths together.

Shocked, at first, Bucky froze, but Steve’s hands winding in his hair grounded him back down to earth, reminding him of the reality of the situation. Bucky tasted the artificial pineapple and coconut on Steve’s mouth, the salty taste of sweat that began beading on them both, and the taste of _himself_ on Steve’s tongue.

It shouldn’t have been so hot, but Bucky groaned into it, deepening the kiss.

When Steve pulled away this time, Bucky panted against his mouth, leaning against his forehead for support. “I think I’m ready for you.”

After being fingered so thoroughly and eaten out like that, Bucky was _more_ than ready.

Steve grinned, probably thinking a similar thought but adding another one, “I know we talked about our favorite positions, but for tonight, I really want to look at your beautiful face, Buck. Is that okay?”

_Is that okay?_ Of fucking course, that was okay, and Bucky realized that he may have said that out loud when Steve chuckled, already helping him lie down on his back, resting his head against a pillow and grabbing a different one to prop underneath his hips. Comfortable, Bucky looked down at himself, checking out his stockinged legs as he spread them and the precome that dribbled out of his hard cock lying against his stomach.

He looked utterly debauched, and they had hardly started.

Settling between his thighs, Steve ran a hand up Bucky’s leg, catching his fingers in the netting and giving it a light tug. As he lazily stroked his own cock to full, impressive hardness with extra lube on his other hand, Steve aligned himself with Bucky’s eagerly-waiting hole. “You still want to do this?” Steve – _perfect, perfect, perfect_ – asked. “We can stop now, or we can stop at any time.”

Bucky nodded. “Yes, Steve. I want to do this.”

Seeing light flash in Steve’s eyes, Bucky smiled into the kiss that Steve pressed against his lips. When they separated, Steve looked down with an expression that could only be described as endearing determination and precision, as he lined himself up with Bucky. “Ready?” he asked, looking at down at him through his golden lashes.

“Would you please just fuck me already?” Bucky teasingly snapped, cracking a grin.

Without warning, Steve pushed the head of his cock into him, and Bucky gasped, thankful to not be wearing the corset and praising the Lord that he was able to breathe freely. On instinct, his whole body tightened, tightening around Steve, who moaned. Steve, too, appeared to be adjusting to the new feeling, face contorting in the most beautiful expression of pained-pleasure. Bucky held his breath when Steve slowly, carefully, rocked forward, inching himself further into Bucky before pausing for them both to relax, exchanging each other’s oxygen. At some point, breathing heavily through his nose, Bucky closed his eyes and felt Steve reach beside him, lifting his right hand from where it tugged the sheets and tangled their fingers together. Steve squeezed his hand when he slipped the final inch of himself inside of Bucky, buried fully to the hilt, connected together completely as one body.

_One soul._

As Bucky pondered that profound thought, Steve gave his hand another squeeze. “You okay?” he asked, voice tight in his throat, as if he had to strain to speak.

Swallowing, Bucky nodded and forced himself to peel his eyes open. The effort turned out to be more than worth it when he found Steve staring down at him, a thin ring of crystal-clear blue around a pitch-black void of raw desire, like he was the most beautiful, wonderful thing in the universe. He sighed and tossed back his head, arching his back. “ _Yes, Steve._ ”

Using that encouragement, Steve slowly started to move. He gave an experimental rock of his hips, pulling out the tiniest amount and shoving back in to test both of their reactions. Steve let out a rumbling moan, and Bucky let out a breathy whine. Repeating the experiment by pulling out further and shoving back in harder, Steve’s moans became elongated, stretched together, and Bucky’s whines rose in pitch, becoming more and more desperate until he was crying out with each pulse, “Oh! Oh! OH!”

Quickly, they found their ideal rhythm together with Steve thrusting in and out at a ravenous pace and Bucky trying his best to meet him each time, grinding with him and leaving him constantly on the verge of catching his breath, skin lit on fire. Reaching a comfortable pace apparently triggered Steve’s dirty talk, as he looked down at Bucky writhing beneath him with a satisfied smirk. “Yeah, baby, you fucking like that, huh? Taking my thick cock like you need it to fucking survive. Is that right, Buck? You need my cock?”

Bucky could hardly think of any words more complex than “Oh!” or “Ah!” or “Uh!”, but he somehow found deep within his brain the ability to respond through a needy whine, “ _Yes_ , Daddy, I need your cock.”

Incredibly, Steve demonstrated his strength by fucking into him even harder, knocking the headboard against the wall with each forceful thrust. After a few pulses, though, Steve paused, and with a question on the tip of his tongue, Bucky looked down to watch Steve force Bucky’s knees up to his chest, practically folding him in half, answering him. Bucky slipped his fingers into the fishnets to help hold his knees there. He groaned, getting used to the position and realizing that maybe those awful yoga sessions had a purpose.

“This okay?” Steve huffed.

“ _Yes_ ,” Bucky gasped when Steve started to thrust in again. _Oh_ , this new position was more than okay. It was better, it was deeper, it allowed Steve to nail that spot every single time, and Bucky realized, again, that he was saying all of these things out loud when Steve chuckled.

His voice was dark, velvety smooth, rich like an expensive bitter chocolate. “Yeah? You like that? You like Daddy fucking your tight, little hole this deep?”

Bucky could only cry out in response, verging on a wail, while he threw his head back and pulled his tights harder, hearing a rip as he tore a hole into the stockings. Grabbing the fishnets at his shins made his toes curl even further than they already were from the bursting of nerves pulsating inside of him, radiating out to every extremity. His whole body tingled, burning, lit up and set ablaze. Muscles tensing, coiling in the pit of his stomach, Bucky recognized this feeling. He wanted to – _oh_ , he needed, he _needed_ –

Reaching between them, Steve gripped Bucky’s neglected cock, leaking from constantly being teased, rubbing between their smooth abs with no real friction. It only took a few good tugs, wrapped in Steve’s strong fingers, while the relentless pace of his hips remained unchanged, before Bucky squeezed his eyes shut.

His mouth fell open, letting out a wanton, piercing howl, without a single thought given to whether the others could hear him. He didn’t care if the _world_ heard him. Tuning that world out, he focused on the waves of pleasure that crashed over him, pure and unadulterated ecstasy. He saw the magically-forming waves of the pool outside and its water that changed colors, and he saw the waves crashing onto the beach where Steve asked him to be his boyfriend. He imagined being swept away in those waves, floating away for eternity.

It was the only thing that mattered; _Steve_ was the only thing that mattered.

Bucky drifted back into reality when he noticed that Steve was still talking. “–so fucking pretty, baby. Taking my cock so pretty. You’re fucking gorgeous, Buck. The only person who I ever want to take my cock again.”

Clenching down at his praise, at that _idea_ , Bucky whined, and Steve took it like a sucker punch – all of the air in his lungs forcefully shoved out. As he started to regain the feeling in his body, Bucky realized that Steve’s thrusts were beginning to cross the precipice from pleasure into oversensitized pain. Steve must have noticed the sharp turn that Bucky’s noises took, as well, and carefully started to pull out.

“No!” Bucky cried out immediately. As he kept clenched down on the inch or so of Steve’s cock left inside of him, Bucky looked up and gripped his face between his hands. “Come inside me,” he said, a confident command that he didn’t understand he was making until the words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth. When they registered in his mind, Bucky gasped and repeated it, a breathy, needy, desperate plea, wanting it more than his next heartbeat. “Oh, come inside me, Steve. _Come inside me_.”

With only a few more thrusts, pistoning his hard length in and out of him with tremendous force, Steve did just that, filling him fully, coating Bucky’s insides with himself, claiming him as his own, and – _oh_ , wasn’t that a thought? Bucky almost wanted to walk over to the closet, pick out a plug, and stuff it into himself, so that he could keep Steve’s come inside of him for the rest of the night. Maybe even the next day. He could picture himself returning to the others, casually chatting with his fellow Islanders and friends, while he secretly sat with a plug nestled between his cheeks, pressing against his prostate and holding _Steve_ inside of him.

That image helped Bucky remain clenched down on Steve’s cock, milking him through his orgasm, happily collecting every single drop of his come.

They stayed connected for a few more moments, perhaps minutes, before Steve pulled his softening cock out of Bucky’s body. Bucky sighed when Steve rolled onto his back by his side, resting his head beside Bucky’s on their pillows. Their chests rose and fell heavily at the same rate, and their hearts beat the same _vivace_ tempo. Bucky felt that his hair was wet at the back of his neck from sweat, and Steve’s hair appeared darker, almost light brown, from his own. His body ached with the promise of being sore the next day.

This was easily the greatest workout he had ever had.

“ _That_ ,” Steve said, breaking the comfortable silence and pausing, as if building the on-camera tension for a recoupling ceremony, “was fucking incredible.”

Bucky released a breathy laugh and found himself unable to use his energy to nod his head. “I second that.”

Holding a hand in his hair, Steve’s mind still appeared to be blown, lying in total disbelief. “Easily the best first time I’ve had with anyone. _Easily_.”

For Bucky, he would have even hazarded a guess that this was the best time he had with anyone _in general_ , but he didn’t want to scare Steve with that suggestion. Instead, without worrying about the mess on his stomach or dripping down his thighs, he found the strength to roll onto his side, curling up with one hand on Steve’s chest. Steve welcomed him into his embrace, wrapping his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and dropping a kiss to the top of his head. Finally, Bucky agreed, “Yeah, me too.”

Bucky rested his head down on the bicep that Steve offered as a pillow with a sigh. There were so many more things that he knew that he could say in this beautiful moment of afterglow. Promises that could be made, vows that would never be broken, and a three-word phrase that seemed almost perfect to admit out loud.

(But that could be saved for another day.)

Letting his heavy eyelids fall closed, just for a little while, Bucky dozed off knowing that he needed to say thank you to Riley in the morning. After all, he was right about two things. First, the devil costume was absolutely the perfect one, and second, this was a very, very special moment for him and Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special moment, indeed.
> 
> So, that happened 😂
> 
> When I decided to write an AU based on Love Island, I knew for a fact that our happy couple would be taking a trip to the Hideaway; they simply HAD to! And I'm proud of them for taking advantage of their evening to its fullest extent. I think we all learned a whole lot about Steve and Bucky in the process 😅
> 
> (Safe sex is incredibly important, and the condoms discussion would have been one that they already shared earlier before Steve's birthday. Still, I definitely wanted to make sure that they had this chat 'in canon' in which both of them give their consent before proceeding without the condoms. At this point in their relationship, with both of them recently being tested to be allowed on the show (which is a real requirement of any dating show), I think it was appropriate for them to connect in this manner, and hopefully, you agree 😊)
> 
> Also, my apologies if some of these kinks aren't your cup of tea - oops, Bucky and Steve get a little wild with the...well, you know 😅
> 
> Thank you again to everyone giving your feedback! I'd like to politely ask one more time to please only comment on this chapter if you are at least 18. As an adult writing this, it truly gives me peace of mind to know that I am discussing these explicit themes only with other adults. Thanks in advance! 😊
> 
> 🎧 "Chicken Tenders" - Dominic Fike 
> 
> (Have you ever heard a better title for a song about sex than "Chicken Tenders"? 😂 Incorporating humor into sex is so incredibly important, and that's definitely what Steve and Bucky do in the Hideaway, having a lot of safe and consensual fun together)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...“So, how’s America’s favorite little sex kitten doin’ this fine morning?"


	49. Chapter 49

**Episode 49**

In the morning, Bucky woke up on his own, naturally. No fluorescent lights flashing on above him, no surprise coffee thrust into his hands, but that was perfectly okay. Beside him lie the only thing that he needed to see with his sleepy eyes. Peering back at him through his own half-opened eyes, serene sky amidst those golden lashes, Steve gave him a tired smile and lifted his hand to rest gently against the side of Bucky’s face, voice a deep rumble. “Good morning, my little devil.”

If he was more awake, Bucky would have scoffed, but instead, he turned his head to press a light kiss against Steve’s palm. “Morning, Daddy.” 

Steve’s sweet grin took a darker turn, briefly twisting higher to a smirk, but Steve didn’t pursue that detour any further. “How’d you sleep?”

Stretching his legs, Bucky hummed to himself in delight. They had fallen asleep facing each other, hands clasped in the space between. “Wonderful. Once you _let_ me.”

“Oh, is that how it is?”

“Mhm.” Bucky closed his eyes, giving in to the delectable temptation to drift back off into the realm of dreams, but they popped open in surprise when Steve attacked him with kisses peppered across his face, while one hand tickled his side. Suddenly wide awake, Bucky gasped for air and laughed, desperately trying to shove his hand away. “Steve! Stop it! Steve, c’mon!”

Steve forced a few more peals of giggles out of him before planting one final kiss on his lips and leaning back with a happy grin. As Steve propped his elbow up on his pillow, resting his head in his hand, Bucky’s eyes were drawn up to the corner of the room where he spotted a black, circular lens. Heart racing and stomach dropping, Bucky narrowed his eyes at the glowing, red light. “Steve?”

Seeming to notice the way that Bucky’s body tensed, Steve eyed him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“This might be a question that I should have asked last night,” Bucky said through a tense laugh. “How do the cameras work in this room?”

“Ah.” Steve gave him an understanding nod. “Great question. So, we do film in here–”

“Oh, god.”

Bucky’s head immediately swirled with worries associated with the realization that someone watched them have sex. That Steve’s _coworkers_ watched them have sex. That Steve’s coworkers _filmed them having sex!_

But Steve put an end to those worries with a comforting hand lying on his arm. “We film in here but not in the way that you’re thinking.”

Humoring him, pausing the downward spiral of fears, Bucky allowed Steve to explain himself.

“There’s cameras in all four corners of the room, like every room. They like to get footage of the couple walking in, checking things out, talking. Maybe a kiss or two when they start settling down. When it’s clear that things are going a particular way, the monitors in the control room go dark, but they keep rolling in the background in case something were to happen and we need to supply footage. No one ever watches that footage unless it was an absolute necessity or emergency, and we’ve never had a situation like that before. It’s a _network_ show, Buck. Nothing explicit would ever make it to air, and you can trust me that no one on the production team is jerking it in the control room to Hideaway visits. That footage gets specifically labelled and tucked away under the assumption that it will never be opened. Okay?”

Bucky would have preferred to see that in writing, but he shrugged; the damage had already been done anyway. “Okay.”

Still, Steve sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that last night. I didn’t even think about it. I was so focused on – well, _you_.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said with another shrug. “You’re fine. I didn’t think about it either, but I’m not worried about it. There’s nothing that could ruin last night for me, Steve. It was perfect.”

“You really think so?” Steve asked.

As Steve leaned forward, Bucky couldn’t help but smile. “Of course.”

Shaking his head again, this time in disbelief, a blush brought warmth to Steve’s cheeks. “I think so too. I’m just so glad we had the opportunity to connect like this. Obviously, it’s important that we connect so well as friends first and then as romantic partners–”

“Steve,” Bucky said, not necessarily to interrupt, but unable to keep his laughter silent for any longer, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Steve’s arm as he started to ramble.

“–but connecting intimately and communicating effectively through sex is just as important in building a relationship, and we clearly demonstrated that we can connect that way too.”

“ _Steven_.” Bucky ducked his head, pressing his face into his own pillow, to suppress a laugh before looking back over at him and reaching up to run a finger along his jaw. “You can just say you’re happy that you got laid and move on.”

Almost taken aback, Steve stared at him, running a hand through his own hair, failing to find the humor in Bucky’s teasing. “It’s not about _getting laid_ , Buck. It’s about being open with each other, joining each other. Being vulnerable. Did you not feel that way last night? I mean, what did _you_ think about it?”

Bucky refused to give up so easily and shrugged, giving him a lighthearted smirk. “Not too shabby.”

“Oh,” Steve said, appearing to finally catch on to the joke and lying back down, lying closer so that Bucky could feel his breath on his face when he repeated, “‘Not too shabby,’ huh? That’s not what you said last night after the first time.” Steve dropped a soft kiss to one of Bucky’s shoulders. “Or the second time.” Steve dropped another kiss to the other shoulder, mouth curling to match his smirk. “Or the third time.”

Throat feeling a little raw, Bucky chuckled. When Steve moved up to his neck, Bucky groaned, wondering how many hickeys had formed on his skin. “I think I liked it better when you were shy and pretending like you didn’t know what my face looks like when I come.”

“Sweetheart, I wasn’t pretending in the slightest.” Steve grazed his teeth over a spot that felt particularly sensitive, sending a jolt of electricity down his spine, and Bucky gasped. “I quite liked seeing that face, and I’m hoping to see it one more time this morning.”

Biting his bottom lip, Bucky still found the strength to talk back. “Oh, would you?”

“Mhm. Got anything to say about it?”

“You want to know what I have to say?”

Steve gave that spot on his neck another nip. “Mhm.”

“Fine. All I have to say is,” Bucky began, using all of his energy to push Steve flat on his back and swiftly straddle his waist, “just one?”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

After a _delightful_ start to his morning, Bucky joined Steve in taking advantage of the Hideaway’s en suite, stepping into the private shower with a sigh. Gladly taking control, Steve dutifully lathered shampoo into Bucky’s hair, rubbing his fingertips against his scalp in small circles. Steve paid similar, careful attention to the rest of his body, thoroughly cleaning Bucky _and_ himself. When they stepped out together, they shared a towel to dry each other, and Steve returned to the bedroom to grab their change of clothes.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Steve called out from the other room, “but I brought over my own clothes last night while I was waiting for you to come downstairs.”

After the night before, Bucky grinned at the thought of wearing Steve’s clothes for everyone to see, and his grin grew wider when Steve handed him a white t-shirt and a pair of Calvin Klein briefs that he was already well-acquainted with.

Steve apparently shared his thought with a smirk. “I figured you wouldn’t mind borrowing something of mine so that we can run upstairs and get changed into real clothes. Unless you want to wear your outfit from last night again.”

Pulling the t-shirt over his head, Bucky rolled his eyes.

When they returned to the bedroom to clean up, Bucky commenced his scavenger hunt of finding the slutty outfit, while Steve made the bed. Bucky found the corset behind one of the leather armchairs, the skirt near the table, and the panties beneath the bed. (He decided the four tiny garter straps were a lost cause.) “You can just leave that stuff in a pile on the end of the bed,” Steve instructed him. “The interns will wash what can be washed and probably burn the rest.”

Bucky paused, picking up the heels from the floor. “You mean I can’t keep anything?”

Surprised, Steve caught his eye before letting out a chuckle. “I guess there’s nothing preventing you from doing that. I’m not sure you want to keep these as a souvenir, though,” Steve said, lifting one of the stockings up on one finger by one of the _many_ holes ripped into it.

Bucky found its mate on the other side of the bed and cradled it fondly. By round four, one of the stockings practically fell off of his leg after Steve tore the lace band in half as he maneuvered Bucky to – well, _you know_. The other one didn’t fare much better with so many tears that it no longer resembled a leg in any form, but rather, a true fisherman’s net after losing a battle with a mighty sea beast. Still, the stockings, like the rest of the outfit, were a symbol of a life-changing, _relationship_ -changing, evening. “They hold good memories,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I’ll keep them for my scrapbook.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “You keep a scrapbook?”

Leaning across the bed, Bucky snatched the other stocking from his grasp and added it to his pile. “I can start.”

As Bucky happily picked up his bundle of lingerie and memories, Steve chuckled. “Y’know, I was giving more thought to your question about filming in this room, and if someone with special connections to the producers and a history with the show were to maybe pull some strings, I’m sure a person like that could perhaps get a hold of the footage. If the people in the video, of course, would ever want to watch it. Together. At some point. If that happens to be of interest to you.”

Eyebrows raised, Bucky considered Steve’s offer. The thought of being able to relive their first time together, witnessing it from four different angles, sounded as exciting as it was a bit frightening. Watching their own sex tape _together_. Screenshots from that video would certainly be a great addition to the scrapbook. “I think that may be of interest to me.”

Stepping out into the quiet hallway, rejoining the rest of the house, Bucky finally understood the meaning of _walk of shame_. No matter where they went, they were bound to run into someone who would shoot them a knowing look or make a pointed comment. They made it through the foyer and up the stairs without seeing anyone else, parting ways at Steve’s dressing room with a brief kiss, but that changed when Bucky peeked his head into his own dressing room. Immediately, his eyes locked onto Riley’s in the reflection of his mirror. “Oh, _there_ he is!”

Bucky sighed but was thankful to see that the room was empty aside from Riley. “Morning.”

Riley whipped his head around, greeting him with a knowing look _and_ a pointed comment. “So, how’s America’s favorite little sex kitten doin’ this fine morning? You’re the talk of the villa, y’know.”

Heart dropping, Bucky found himself incapable of speech as he crossed the room. “You’re really talking about me?”

“Well, of course we are after you kept us up all night with your screamin’.”

“Oh, god,” Bucky groaned, lifting a hand to his forehead. Had they really been that loud? Didn’t Steve say that the room was soundproof? “You could hear – _us_?”

In his mirror, Riley met his eyes again with a smirk. “Oh, honey, I was just bluffing to try and see if my assumptions are correct for accurately imaginin’ my daydreams. So, you _are_ vocal in bed. Good to know.”

“Glad I could help,” Bucky deadpanned under his breath, as he put his strip tease clothes in his closet and pulled out that day’s swim trunks.

Riley stepped to his side, sitting at Bucky’s vanity, and lowered his voice to something more serious, genuine. “Seriously, though, how did it go?”

This time, Bucky felt _genuinely_ glad to speak with him. “You were right – of course. It was really amazing. It was everything we needed right now. It was special, and it was magical. I don’t think it could have gone any better.”

Clapping his hands together, Riley squealed. “I’m so happy for you! Now, tell me, did you have sex, fuck, or make love?”

“Uh,” Bucky started, narrowing his eyes, “there’s differences?”

Riley rolled his eyes with a melodramatic sigh. “Obviously, there are differences! If you have sex, you’re going through the motions, nothin’ too out of the ordinary. If you fuck, you’re doin’ it _dirty_ , kinky and messy and maybe even a little mean. Then, if you make love, it’s all about the _love_ , the warmth and the intimacy, slow and sappy, more emotion than movement.”

“Yeah, sure.” Unconvinced, Bucky simply brushed through his still-damp hair. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure the only people using the term ‘make love’ are old people who still have gross, saggy sex.”

“Ew, Bucky! Why the hell would you say that? Why are you thinking about old people having sex?”

“You started it!” Bucky said through a laugh.

With his arms crossed, Riley shuddered. “Disgusting. All I wanted to know is what you two crazy kids were getting up to last night out of those three options, and somehow, you got me thinkin’ about old people sex.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky chuckled and peeled off Steve’s t-shirt. “Whatever can I do to make up for it, dearest?”

In an instant, Riley dropped the pained, accosted act and leaned forward. “You can tell me what you did last night.”

Bucky pursed his lips, seriously attempting to consider how the previous night aligned with Riley’s three categories. For a first time, it wasn’t too terribly mechanical or vanilla by any means, but he wouldn’t go as far as saying that it was outrageously freaky. They had yet to exchange the scary, mystical four-letter word, so he didn’t feel completely comfortable categorizing it as option three, but there were certainly intimate moments, as they held each other close, gazing into each other’s eyes as they rode the waves of pleasure together. “I’d say we mostly had sex but with a pinch of a fuck and a dash of making love.”

Riley’s eyes lit up, as if he had been given the best news of his life. “That’s beautiful, Bucky.”

Bucky shrugged, still feeling in an utter state of bliss (even if a little sore). “It _was_ beautiful.” While Riley slipped on a flowy, seemingly-expensive cover-up, Bucky grabbed his trustworthy, cheap sunglasses from his vanity. “What? Are you not going to tell me how _your_ first time fell into those categories?”

“Oh, we fucked.” Bucky blinked, but Riley remained unfazed. “I’m a total freak, babe. I begged for it every which way to Sunday: up, down, left, right, front, back, inside-out. On the floor, on the wall, on the ceiling. The reason I looked so tired the next day is because we didn’t sleep at all.” With a laugh to himself, Riley tied back his hair. “Why I couldn’t sit down either.”

_Good to know_. “So, I’m guessing you two used the toys in the closet, then?”

“Please, sugar. We brought our own toys.”

A little terrified, a little turned on, Bucky nodded. Hey, he couldn’t _not_ respect that.

“Alright,” Riley said, turning back to him and waggling his eyebrows above his own sunglasses. “Ready to go see the others?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't they cute! 😅
> 
> A lovely ~morning after~ moment, and I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> As always, I love hearing your thoughts, so please feel free drop a comment when you have the chance! The response from the previous chapter was AMAZING and so encouraging; thank you so much!! 😊 And hang out with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets
> 
> Next time on Love Island...“Islanders, please prepare for the final recoupling."


	50. Chapter 50

**Episode 50**

Deciding that the day would definitely, _definitely_ need to be a hair-left-down day to cover the purple splotches on his neck like he was in high school again, Bucky found the others in the kitchenette. Steve got there first, preparing both of their usual coffee orders at the Keurig, while the rest of the Islanders stood around the perimeter of the deck, as if waiting for Bucky’s appearance. They confirmed that assumption by applauding as soon as Bucky stepped out of the house. Immediately reminded of the _last_ time the others greeted him after a development in his sexual relationship with Steve, Bucky’s face flushed red.

Except, this time, Steve offered him his favorite slightly-too-sweet coffee in consolation, instead of birthday cake. “Very unnecessary, everyone,” Steve said, tone almost annoyed, as he slid the mug across the island.

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, man. We’re not making fun. We all couldn’t be happier for you two.”

“Yeah,” Riley agreed, hugging Bucky from the side, slipping his arm around his waist, “you two deserve all the praise in the world for treating us to that last night.”

Bucky shyly lifted his gaze to see the others nodding their approval. Even Peggy, forced to watch him shake his ass, among other things, in front of her ex-partner. Even Jane, forced to watch him shake his ass, among other things, in front of her current partner.

“While we’re all here,” Bucky started after clearing his throat, “I think I owe you all an apology.”

That comment earned a few furrowed brows and questioning glances, and Carol appeared to speak for them all. “Apologize for what?”

Now, Bucky quirked an eyebrow at them. “For last night? I know it was a game, but that’s no excuse for me not thinking through my actions. I’m sorry if I crossed any boundaries.”

The peanut gallery remained silent before Scott cracked a grin. “Dude, you don’t have to apologize for that. Last night was legendary.”

“Legendary is an understatement!” Val said through a lighthearted laugh. “That was easily one of the most iconic moments of the entire season. Hell, the entire _show_.”

“You have to admit it was special, sweetheart,” Steve joined in, looking over the rim of his steaming mug. “We do that challenge every year, but I’m not sure we can ever do it again, considering no one will be able to top you.”

“Except you, Steve,” Riley said, loud enough for everyone to hear under his breath.

This time, when the others laughed and he blushed, Bucky shoved Riley away, shaking his head.

The rest of the day passed under a similar atmosphere of lighthearted jokes and good-natured ribbing. Thor found a volleyball in the pool shed, hidden under the floaties, and drew an invisible net in chalk paint on the turf. He called over Sam and Steve to assemble his team against Val, Angie, and Carol. Across the pool, their partners snuck glances from where they sat on the deck chairs, legs crossed and underneath them, so that the six of them could sit two-to-a-seat. Jane and Peggy on one chair and Hope and Scott, cuddling on another, surrounded Bucky and Riley in the middle, where Bucky used to sit by himself, heartbroken and alone. In generalities, they asked about the night before, and Bucky replied with vague answers, earning him a nudge and wink from Riley each time. They all seemed thrilled that him dancing in front of them and their partners in the heartrate challenge transitioned perfectly into their night in the Hideaway, pleased about the nonspecific progress of their relationship.

Even Peggy. Even Jane.

With no other demands from text messages from the producers, it was an ideal afternoon to relax after the exciting evening, needing a day to decompress and unwind. Watching their partners’ and fellow Islanders’ lean and muscular bodies stretch for the ball, glistening with sweat under the hot sun, certainly helped them to enjoy their time off. Bucky smirked at the sight of Steve particularly straining to reach a few shots, grimacing from extending sore muscles at certain angles, because Bucky felt a similar dull ache in his thighs. Squinting beneath his sunglasses, Steve caught him staring, and Bucky blew him a kiss.

“Ugh,” Riley said through an exasperated sigh. “Aren’t you two the cutest?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, and they both turned their attention back to the homemade court. Their boyfriends played well with Steve’s strategy and Sam’s eye for calling shots, combined with Thor’s brute strength, but the boys simply couldn’t beat the remarkable chemistry that Carol and Val had with each other, practically reading each other’s minds to set up perfect spikes for Angie. Not even a valiant dive from Thor could save the ball from hitting the ground, declaring the girls victorious, and Carol and Val sandwiched Angie into a celebratory hug.

After another family-style dinner, squished together around the kitchenette picnic table, Scott received the text that put an end to the lax camaraderie: “Islanders, please prepare for the final recoupling in which Steve, Hope, Riley, Jane, Carol, and Peggy will choose from the remaining Islanders. #Last-Call #Last-Choice”

“Final recoupling?” Bucky asked Steve, as they headed to their respective dressing rooms.

Steve shrugged. “If they’re done bringing in new Islanders, they might as well. Plus, I don’t think Carol and Val are technically considered in a couple, so I think this is more of a formality than anything.” Bucky nodded, and Steve ducked down to press a quick kiss to his cheek before parting ways. “See you out there.”

“Wait,” Bucky said, grabbing his arm. Steve turned to him with an unspoken question in his eyes, and Bucky pouted, lowering his lashes. “You’re gonna pick me, right?”

Chuckling, Steve caught on to the joke quickly and narrowed his eyes. “Hm, it might be a tough call. We’ll have to see when we get down there. Look pretty for me, baby.”

Steve smacked Bucky’s ass before stepping into his dressing room, leaving Bucky swooning in the hallway and pondering the perfect ‘pretty’ outfit. At his closet, Bucky chose the slightly-too-tight, black skinny jeans that would cling to the curves of his legs as a painful reminder to Steve that they weren’t spending the night in the Hideaway again. But, perhaps a more direct reminder was the dark red dress shirt, well-fitted with a satiny finish that alluded to thoroughly-used sheets. Bucky grinned at his reflection, realizing, again, that he had no choice but to leave his hair down to cover the marks strategically sucked beneath both of his ears. Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and leaving an extra button undone at his collar, Bucky felt confident that Steve would definitely approve.

Riley clearly did, pouring out compliments, as they walked down the ivy-lined pathway together for the _last time_ – at least, leading to a recoupling ceremony, that is. Of course, Riley looked excellent too with his hair in two braids, framing his face, and (intentionally) paint-splattered overalls over a plain, white crop top.

On opposite sides of the fire pit, both of their boyfriends beamed at them when they took their places, looking equally-handsome in their light blue button-downs and khaki shorts.

With everyone in place, Janet entered the villa in a lavender-colored gown, hair blown back by the manufactured wind, as always. “Islanders,” she started with, as always, flashing them her signature smile, “it has been about seven weeks since we began this journey together. One couple has been together for all seven of those weeks.” Everyone clapped for Riley and Sam. “Two couples knew each other in the first week, and after a few twists and turns, made it back to each other.” The others divided their attention between Bucky and Steve and Carol and Val. “And three of you met your matches at Casa Amor.”

They applauded for the remaining couples, and Janet flipped to her next notecard. “Tonight’s recoupling ceremony is one of your final opportunities to share your feelings with each other in front of your fellow Islanders and the rest of the nation.”

Bucky caught Steve’s eye, and Steve gave him a sly, undetectable wink that briefly stopped Bucky’s heart.

“Riley,” Janet said, continuing with the formalities, “you are currently coupled with Sam, as you have been since the very first day. You may choose to remain in your couple, or you can choose to recouple with Bucky, Scott, Thor, Val, or Angie.”

Listening to the options, Riley nodded along with his gaze permanently fixed on Sam. When it was his turn to speak, he moved his attention to the rest of the group. “This has easily been one of the greatest experiences of my life. I didn’t know what to expect from joining the show, but I definitely didn’t expect to find lifelong friends, someone who I would connect with that I feel finally understands me, and the confidence to unapologetically be who I am. I think you all already know my choice, because it’s obvious.” Beside Bucky, Sam grinned, but the smile instantly fell from his face when Riley continued talking. “But, now might be the perfect time to take a risk. To switch things up.”

“ _What?_ ” Sam asked, utterly breathless, breaking the one unspoken rule of not interrupting the recoupling ceremonies.

At the same time, _everyone_ asked, “What?”

Face straight, almost apologetic, Riley continued, “I know that this decision may surprise you all, but I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and…oh, _hell_ , y’all should see your faces right now!” While the others exchanged confused glances, Riley cackled, clutching his stomach. He explained himself once he gained enough composure to not laugh between each word. “I’m just ticklin’ your peach, babylove. Of course, I choose my Sammie! D’y’all really think I’d leave my _boyfriend_ during the _final_ recoupling ceremony?”

Sam stood frozen in place for a moment, blinking, before closing the space between him and Riley and allowing himself to be wrapped up in Riley’s open arms. When they pulled apart, Sam kissed his forehead. “I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything in my entire life, and I intend to spend the rest of my days with you. There’s nothing that could ever change that. But I’m begging you to please never do that again.”

Hugging him again, Riley bent down to bury his face in the side of Sam’s neck with a chuckle and a sigh. “Of course not, birdie. I love you too.”

With the recoupling off to a _weird_ start, Steve was next and hopefully planned to reset the natural balance. Still, Bucky smirked at him when Steve rose from the bench. “Pull that shit with me right now, and you’ll be sleeping in the living room tonight,” Bucky said coolly, a teasing threat.

Steve nodded, palms raised. “Nothing to worry about, Buck. I think you’ll like my little speech tonight.”

Well-acquainted with Steve’s little speeches, Bucky knew that it was bound to be good, eager to listen, all ears.

“Every season that I’ve worked on this show, I’ve never understood why people speak so highly of feeling nervous around the people they like,” Steve began, a quality to his voice almost like a lecture or sermon, capturing everyone’s attention. “Nerves stem from fear, right? So, why should you be afraid to be around the person that you love?”

Chest tightening, Bucky’s lungs filled with air. _The person that Steve_ loves. _Did he really mean that?_

Recognizing the stunned expressions on not only Bucky’s face but the other Islanders’ faces, Steve paused, eyebrows raising when he appeared to realize the words that had left his mouth, a small detail that went overlooked in his mental revisions. Ducking his head with a half-smile, he clarified, “Or, are _starting_ to fall in love with. Regardless, now that I’ve been through this process as a contestant and I’ve felt that sense of nervousness around that person, I get it. I understand why I’m nervous when it comes to him. Because it’s not a fear of being around that person; it’s an innate, biological response to knowing deep-down that you are destined to fuck everything up.”

Someone let out a surprised huff of a laugh, and Janet flinched, as if taken aback by the harsh language. Either oblivious or uncaring, Steve continued, unfazed. “It’s an absolute terror that chills your core at the thought that you will inevitably destroy everything that you’ve worked for together. And I’ve done that. I’ve fucked it up in multiple ways in the beginning with this person, and he had every right to call it quits. He gave me another chance and stuck with me until this very moment, and I cannot thank him enough for that. I can’t promise him that I won’t make another dumb mistake or say the wrong thing, but as my boyfriend, as something much more than that one day, I feel comfortable knowing that we can make it through any obstacle that life throws at us. I am committed to this man wholeheartedly, and I know that our relationship will go the distance. But no matter what, I think there will always be that sense of nervousness under my skin, because I care about you. I never want to hurt you again, and I promise you that I never will. I’ll always be scared of fucking things up between us, but I know that you’ll reassure me that we’re okay. I can’t wait to continue this journey with you, and Bucky, I hope you’ll be with me every step of the way.”

While the others applauded, Steve held out his hand, and crossing over to the fire pit, Bucky accepted it with a deep sigh before pulling him into a hug. Appreciating the honesty, Bucky rubbed his hands along Steve’s back, smooth circles to comfort him. “That was beautiful, Steve,” Bucky whispered into his ear.

Steve thanked him with a kiss, and they took their seats beside Sam and Riley. With a lighthearted grin, Sam nudged Steve with his elbow. “You still nervous, man?”

“Always,” Steve said with a chuckle. “I’m always going to be nervous when it comes to Bucky, but I think that’s a good thing."

Bucky nodded in agreement but squeezed Steve’s thigh, a teasing smile on his lips. “I’m more nervous about the censors being mad at you.”

Steve smirked and pecked his cheek. “Fuck ‘em.”

Glancing at the producers off to the side, Janet shook her head and flipped to the next notecard. “Carol, you are technically single on the Island. Of course, your relationship with Val has blossomed, but in addition to Val, you may choose couple up with Scott, Thor, or Angie.”

When she stood from the bench, Carol aimed her smirk in Steve’s direction. “I also plan to give a heartfelt speech, but mine will be a whole lot less _crass_.” The others laughed, and Carol directed her attention over to where it naturally fell: Val. “When I first walked into the villa, I didn’t know what to expect from this experience. I would have never believed that after seven weeks, I would find a girlfriend that I can’t wait to build my world around when we go back home. Actually, it’s still a little hard to believe that this woman is my girlfriend, because – c’mon, guys, just look at her! No one should be allowed to be that beautiful. But, don’t get me wrong, she is so much more than that. She is talented, strong, independent, and I can’t wait for her to kick my ass in match of singles when we get back to the West Coast. Obviously, if some of you haven’t figured it out yet, I am deciding to couple up with my amazing girlfriend Val.”

The other Islanders applauded as they shared their kiss in front of the flames before sitting down together with the rest of the official couples.

Jane rose next, and her cheeks were as pink as her blouse. “Hi, everyone. As you all know, this is my first time doing one of these speeches, so you’ll have to forgive me in advance if this isn’t as practiced and polished as the others. I guess the theme of the evening is being surprised by this experience, and I can most definitely relate. Some of you know this but not everyone – I wasn’t exactly the one who signed up to be on the show. I have an incredible, bombastic best friend who insisted that I be on the show after she was on it. I’m sure you remember Darcy from Season 9.”

Bucky _surely_ did not and looked over at Steve to gauge his reaction, who succinctly summarized his thoughts on this particular Islander by stifling a pained groan.

“She filled out the first application without my knowledge, and when I found out, I had no intention of submitting the next part of the application. But after a lot of persistent convincing, I decided to take the plunge, and I was accepted to be one of the Islanders from Casa Amor and that decision could not have worked better for me. Watching the season progress, I never thought I would have any sort of chemistry with this Islander, but I could not have been happier to be proven wrong. Like so many people underestimate him, I first thought that he was just some attractive, athletic surfer bro with a body from the gods, but underneath, he is the kindest person I have ever met. He swept me off my feet, and _well_ ,” she chuckled at her own words, shaking her head, “I never want to be put down. It should be no surprise that the Islander I would like remain coupled with is…Thor.”

While the rest of the Islanders cheered, Thor literally swept Jane off of her feet, lifting her in a bridal hold and spinning her around before taking their seats.

“Peggy,” Janet continued, “you are currently coupled up with Angie, but you may also choose to recouple with Scott.”

Peggy smiled her usual cherry-red smile, beaming at Angie, with a prepared speech fresh in her mind. “I joined the show during a very challenging time. During my first week, I had to watch the person that I thought I liked fall deeper and deeper in – _starting_ to fall in love – with someone else.” Bucky glanced over his shoulder to see Steve duck his head, blushing like Jane still was beside Thor. “But then I met my true match at Casa Amor. She immediately took my breath away. She astounded me with her wit, constantly keeping me on my toes. We bickered with each other over silly little things to give each other a laugh, and we bonded over politics and favorite desserts and good gin. I see this woman blending into my life with ease, and even though we may long-distance, I have no doubt that we will make our relationship work. I can’t wait for you to visit me so I can give you my own personal tour of the capital, and _I_ can’t wait to visit you, Angie, so that you can finally make me that _extra_ dirty martini.”

Angie giggled at their inside joke and pulled Peggy in for a kiss, mixing red lipstick with a sandy nude.

After they sat together, that left one couple standing, and Janet looked at Hope with a smile – a tiny detail in it that Bucky couldn’t put his finger on that made it seem far more genuine than the one that she gave the cameras. “My beautiful daughter, Hope, you are coupled with Scott and will obviously remain coupled with Scott, but you are still welcome to share a few words if you would like.”

“Yes, please,” Hope said with a nod. “Since the very first season of the show, people have asked me, ‘When are _you_ going to be on it?’ It’s been eleven years before I finally worked up the courage to trust people enough to not take advantage of who I am if I were to ever join the show before I sent in the application. Everyone assumed that the host being my mom gave me some special advantage, but like all the others, I had to pass through the same auditions. Like everyone else, I simply got lucky in finding the one for me. I knew from how he talked about his daughter that he was a great guy, and I knew from the very first time that he made me laugh that we were going to be a great couple. He truly proved to me that there _are_ good people in this world and made all of those worries seem so ridiculous. Scott, I can’t wait to spend this final week with you, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The other Islanders cheered and applauded for the final speech, watching Hope and Scott exchange a searing kiss before taking the last two spots on the bench. They smiled for the camera when it swept around the fire pit and captured the official lineup of the remaining six couples. As they began to stand, preparing to head back inside and get ready for bed, they realized that Janet was still standing in front of them when she usually would have left by now.

“Mom?” Hope asked skeptically. “You know you can leave now, right?”

Janet shook her head with an almost apologetic sigh, and as she flipped to a new notecard, Bucky saw that the camera had returned to its position from the recoupling. _This can’t be good_.

“Islanders,” Janet started, tone darker, “unfortunately, one couple will be leaving us tonight.”

After spending the entire day relaxing, lounging together as one group, as one _family_ , a hush fell over the fire pit, and everyone tensed at Janet’s words.

“The public has _not_ been voting for this elimination, because the couple who goes home tonight is entirely your decision. In a few moments, you will break into your couples and consider your fellow Islanders’ relationships. It is up to you – and only you – to decide who you believe deserves a final chance at earning their spot in the finale. When you make your decision, you will send the names of the couple who you believe should be sent home. The couple with the most votes will be eliminated from the villa.”

Steve’s sigh was chillingly cool against the side of Bucky’s face, as all of the Islanders offered each other sorrowful frowns, shaking their heads.

“This is horrible,” Bucky said once he and Steve settled onto their favorite daybed.

Steve nodded. “They only do this when they know the public would vote for a similar result.”

“How are we even supposed to approach this?”

“In theory, we’re supposed to consider who has the strongest relationship. Assuming that the strongest couples, the ones who actually use labels that the public like the most, would make it to the finale, that would keep me and you, Sam and Riley, and Val and Carol safe. That leaves Thor and Jane, Peggy and Angie, and Hope and Scott up in the air. That’s where friendships come into play.”

Bucky followed his train of thought. “So, we’re keeping Thor and Jane safe.”

“As long as you agree with that,” Steve immediately replied.

“Of course. I mean, aside from Thor being one of your closest friends, I think Jane’s speech tonight really shows how strong they are as couple. I have no problem with them making it to the finale.”

Bucky almost snorted at the actual logic that he used for this decision on this stupid reality show, as if he actually cared, but at this point? _Well_ , he truly did care. (But he mostly cared about making Steve happy.)

“I’m glad you agree,” Steve said with a nod. “That leaves us with Peggy and Angie and Hope and Scott. You got to see both of their relationships form at Casa Amor, so do you have a preference for who stays and who possibly goes?”

Choosing to eliminate either the daughter of the show’s celebrity host or the woman who stole his partner away in the beginning before appearing to meet her perfect match. _What a choice_. Still, Bucky wanted to approach this decision fairly. “Both of them immediately got along so well with their new partners at Casa Amor, and I really feel like at this point, their relationships are on an equal playing field. I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I know that this might sound odd,” Steve started with, and despite feeling a bit nervous, Bucky knew where this particular thought was headed, “but I don’t feel comfortable voting for Peggy. I mean, during those few days that we were apart, she genuinely helped me realize what I want out of life. I know that it worked out well for everyone, but I still feel guilty about sort of leading her on that week. She absolutely deserved to find Angie, who can finally treat her right and actually care about her, and I think that they deserve to make it to the finale too.”

While he spoke, Steve absentmindedly drew different shapes along the back of Bucky’s hand with an index finger, and when he stopped, Bucky adjusted their hands so that he could interlace their fingers. “I completely understand.”

Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes. “You do?”

“Of course, I do. I think it’s only fair that we give them another chance.”

“You’re the best,” Steve said, bringing Bucky’s hand up to kiss his knuckles.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky said, bringing up his phone to type _Hope and Scott_.

He caught Steve’s eyes one last time to get confirmation before hitting _send_.

With a collective sigh, they returned to the fire pit, where they were all instructed to remain standing, uneasy and uncertain, avoiding each other’s eye contact. “Islanders, the votes have officially been tallied,” Janet announced gravely, sending out another shockwave of nerves. “Three couples received zero votes, meaning that they are safe to continue their Love Island journey and may take their seats after I read out their names.”

On his left side, Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand, and on his right, Bucky squeezed Riley’s, preparing themselves for the worst.

But to no one’s surprise, Janet said without preamble, “Sam and Riley, Carol and Val, and Bucky and Steve.”

The three couples exchanged brief hugs before taking their seats for the second time.

“With only one vote, the next couple who is safe is…Jane and Thor.”

Thor released a deep sigh and gave Jane a less-brief hug, holding her close while she gasped, as if they weren’t expecting that result.

With her own sigh, Janet looked between the final two couples standing – the same two that Bucky and Steve had to decide between. “Hope and Scott, Peggy and Angie, it was an incredibly close call with a single vote deciding the final outcome. With three votes, compared to two, the couple that will sadly be leaving us tonight is…”

Scott held both of Hope’s hands in his own, and Peggy kept her arm wrapped around Angie’s waist, as they all waited out the unnecessarily long pause.

“Peggy and Angie.”

Steve’s grasp tightened before letting go in apparent shock, as Hope and Scott stood in place without moving, transfixed in the same state of surprise. Peggy and Angie, however, appeared less surprised but no less hurt when they comforted each other. To a steady rhythm, Peggy ran her hand through Angie’s hair, while she rested her head against Peggy’s shoulder.

After Janet gave her usual apology and suitcases were packed, they all found themselves in the foyer, saying their final goodbyes to Peggy and Angie. Bucky couldn’t deny the tension that rose in his throat when Peggy turned to him and Steve last. “It’s been quite a journey together, hasn’t it?” she said with a bittersweet chuckle.

Putting on a grin, Bucky nodded. “All water under the bridge now.”

“Oh, I know. As I did weeks ago, I wanted to say congratulations. You two are really perfect together, and I couldn’t be happier that you found each other. I wish you the absolute best in the future, and I hope we can keep in touch.” She gave them both a hug, and while they were still close, she added in a teasing whisper, “You better send us invites to your wedding.”

That finally forced a genuine laugh out of Steve, as they watched Peggy and Angie walk down the fateful cobblestone path, holding hands. At Steve’s side, Bucky continued to stare out the door long after Peggy and Angie disappeared and the other couples left to get ready for bed. “You alright?” Bucky asked, leaning into Steve’s side.

Steve nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. Sorry, Buck. I wasn’t expecting that tonight.”

“Me too.” Bucky was still processing the evening’s events himself. “Five couples left. Only four make it to finale, right?”

That question seemed to snap Steve out of his daze, and he nodded. “Yeah. Only one more couple will be eliminated, and then the rest move on to the finale.”

Shaking his head, Bucky let out a sigh of his own. “Crazy that it’ll be over so soon.”

“Hey,” Steve said, bumping their shoulders together. “Whatever happens.”

“Happens,” Bucky agreed on instinct, sealing their pact with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra long chapter to celebrate SEVEN WEEKS!!
> 
> In case you're wondering the breakdown of how the other couples voted, here you go:
> 
> Steve and Bucky voted for Hope/Scott  
> Sam and Riley – Peggy/Angie  
> Carol and Val – Hope/Scott  
> Hope and Scott – Peggy/Angie  
> Thor and Jane – Peggy/Angie  
> Peggy and Angie – Jane/Thor 
> 
> A little fun, a little sappy, a little sad, but also a little hopeful as we near the end of our journey 😊
> 
> A LOT happens this chapter, so if you have any thoughts, I'd love to hear them! Now is a perfect chance to drop a kudos if you haven't yet, and feel free to leave a comment or chat with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets 
> 
> (For my friends who may not know my favorite idiom in the world, as said by Riley: I lived in the south for two years (and have yet to eliminate "y'all" from vocabulary) but perhaps the greatest phrase that I picked up from there is "I'm just tickling your peach" which is another way of saying "I'm just teasing you." Although, now that Call Me By Your Name is more in our cultural lexicon, I feel like this saying takes on a different meaning 😂)
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."Bucky’s eyes sprung open at the sound of a horrific noise."


	51. Chapter 51

**Episode 51**

[ _Psst! Why am I whispering, you may ask? The Islanders are still sleeping! After a tough elimination last night, they needed their rest. Beauty sleep isn’t easy, you know! It’d be a real shame if someone were to wake them up early…_ ]

Bucky’s eyes sprung open at the sound of a horrific noise. _Nightmarish_ , really. Sending chills over his entire body. With a pained groan, he clamped his hands over his ears in a failed attempt to block out the terrible, high-pitched screaming, almost mechanical in nature. “What the hell is that?” he asked the room, certain that the others were also forced awake.

“Baby!” Bucky assumed Riley exclaimed gleefully to get Sam’s attention, but when he repeated himself and Bucky dropped his hands, he heard more clearly that Riley said, “ _Babies!_ ”

“Babies!” Thor shouted, voice echoing off of the bedroom walls and making Bucky wince.

While Jane slowly lifted her head from their pillows, Thor leaped from their bed and bounded out of the room, as if there were fire alarms blaring. The others soon followed his lead, throwing covers back and sheets onto the floor before sprinting down the hallway.

With the others gone to sort out the emergency, they left Bucky and Steve alone in the bedroom. “The hell is happening?” Bucky asked, throat still scratchy from sleep.

Behind him, Steve reluctantly pulled away from their usual cuddle position with a sigh, lips finally leaving the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky flipped onto his other side to face him, as Steve wiped his eyes and explained simply, “Babies.”

Babies.

Bucky stared down at them in disgust. They weren’t _actual_ babies, of course, but they were the screeching, wailing representation of them. Five cribs had been assembled in the living room, and inside of them were robotic-yet-disturbingly-realistic baby dolls with speakers in their chests that were emitting the awful crying sound. They reminded Bucky of the final assignment for his Home Ec class in high school in which they were given the option of either reading a book about parenting and writing an essay on it or taking care of the notoriously-malfunctioning hell spawn from Uncanny Valley for a whole twenty-four hours, required to tote it around _everywhere_. After hearing the horror stories of how Nat’s baby refused to stop screaming during her dance rehearsal no matter how many times she forced the pacifier or bottle into its mouth, Bucky happily took the book and essay option. (And got an A!)

As the other couples immediately lifted their assigned babies into their arms, swaddling them and cooing at them to quiet their sobbing like they were real, Bucky looked down at his and Steve’s doll with contempt, assuming that there was no option to skim through a book and BS five pages this time. “Do we really have to do this?” he asked anyway.

“I mean,” Steve began with an amused smirk, “they can’t really _force_ us to do anything. This challenge is designed to test the couples who want children, and I think it’s pretty well-established that neither of us envision kids as part of our future plans. Unless that’s changed for you?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Excellent. Then, they can’t really stop us from doing _this_ ,” Steve said and picked up their doll from its neck. He unwrapped the blanket and ripped apart the Velcro on its back, blindly reaching inside the stuffing. “The batteries are shoved somewhere up in the chest–”

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?!” a voice screamed, almost as loud as the doll in Steve’s hand.

They turned to see Riley with his arms crossed beside Sam who coddled their doll, humming a lullaby and rocking it to sleep. Nearly fuming, Riley asked again, “What the hell are you doing with your baby?”

“Uh,” Bucky glanced at Steve, and Steve shrugged.

“I don’t think this thing is really for us,” Steve said, making Riley narrow his eyes.

“This _thing?_ ” Riley echoed back. “This _thing_ is your beautiful daughter! How dare you try to abandon her! I don’t give a damn what you two do, but I’m not letting you ruin this poor girl’s life. If you’re not gonna take care of her, then _I_ will!”

With a raised eyebrow, Bucky exchanged another glance with Steve at the offer that seemed too good to be true. “Really?” they asked together.

“Of course,” Riley said, holding out his hands for Steve to place the doll after pinching its – _her_ – back closed. When Steve handed him the blanket, Riley immediately wrapped it around the doll and raised the fake baby to his chest, swaying from side to side. “It’ll be good practice. It’d be an absolute dream to have twinsies. Hell, I’d even take two or three sets of twinsies.”

“You two want a big family?” Steve asked, seeming to angle his attention at Sam.

Stepping forward, Sam nodded. “A big family would be amazing. I think Riley might want a few more than kiddos than me, though.”

Riley sweetly smiled in agreement, but his voice was deathly serious when he stated, “I want to set a record.”

“I think we’ll settle for five at most,” Sam said.

Pausing, Riley gave him an almost-threatening side glance. “We _settle_ when I say we settle.”

Sam shrugged, appearing content to hold their pretend-twins in their arms, and Bucky looked around the room to see that all of the other couples were equally-content in their own ways. Val and Carol were shaking a rattle in front of their doll’s face, and Scott showed Hope proper burping technique, speaking from experience. Jane tentatively and nervously watched Thor toss their doll into the air, rising higher and higher with each throw, and she intervened when their doll touched the ceiling and started to cry again. They all looked happy with their babies, and turning back to Steve without their baby…

Bucky couldn’t have been happier.

“So, now what?” Bucky asked Steve, free from that day’s responsibility.

Steve smirked. “Whatever we want.”

Whatever they wanted turned out to be what they usually did. After slipping into that day’s swim trunks and sunglasses, while the others read a text that explained that this was, in fact, a challenge to test the parenting skills of the couples who wanted children, Bucky and Steve hopped onto their favorite daybed. They basked in the silent sunlight, as the others ran around with their dolls and accessories, losing sanity by the minute when their babies screamed sporadically, seeming to trigger the other babies to start crying too.

With a somewhat evil grin, Bucky listened to Sam somewhere in the background shout over the cacophony of noise, “Riley, we cannot name our daughter Mary Jane!”

“And why is that?”

“Because we can’t name our _child_ after your favorite slang term for weed!”

Snorting, Bucky flipped onto his stomach to tan his back, while Steve propped his arm behind his head and said, “I think I could get used to this.”

Bucky cracked an eye open, as the corner of his mouth curled upward. “Seven weeks of this, and you’re just now getting used to lying in the sun?”

Steve rolled onto his side to face him better. “Being here,” he clarified. “With you, I mean. Like this. Doesn’t this give you, like, the image of perfect domestic bliss?”

Bucky’s eyebrow quirked on skeptical instinct, but he gave Steve the chance to explain himself.

“I can’t help but imagine after we’ve moved in together in the future, after a long day of work, coming home and climbing under the covers with you and laying there for hours and hours, perfectly happy with doing absolutely nothing or just being by your side while you review a case or maybe I research a project. We don’t even have to talk. Just being within arms’ reach of you and feeling the warmth that radiates off your body, like you’re full of light and love. That’s all I could ever want in life.”

Resisting the urge to contentedly sigh or swoon, Bucky tried to not overthink Steve’s words, particularly hung up on one four-letter word: _love_.

They hadn’t had the chance to talk about Steve’s little slip of the tongue the night before during his speech when he admitted that he was potentially _falling in love_ with Bucky, but that was okay. The energy between them was as comfortable as always. There was no pressure to rush that word, and it would arise naturally, organically, in the perfect moment. Bucky didn’t mind if that moment wasn’t just then.

As if pretending that he wasn’t positively beaming, Bucky shook his head. “You’re such a sap.”

Steve sighed, but not at all disappointed with his response, he agreed. “I know I am. But, hey, you bring it out of me.”

“Hm,” Bucky teased. “Remind me to stop doing whatever I’m doing that brings it out of you.”

Steve chuckled, and Bucky closed his eyes again, breathing deeply. After a few moments of peace and quiet (for them, not the others), Steve raised a hand to Bucky’s back and rested his palm in between his shoulder blades. He gently rubbed small circles with his thumb, and Bucky responded by breathing deeper through his nose. When Steve made the patterns larger, more intricate but lacking any significance, spanning the entirety of Bucky’s shoulders and dipping into the area of his lower back where he refused to admit was ticklish, Bucky opened his eyes again. “You trying to tell me something, Steve?”

Under his breath, Steve let out another soft laugh. “Y’know, we actually considered having a challenge like that. Having the Islanders write on their partner’s back and guess what the messages say. I feel like you and I would’ve been good at that.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. We’re a good team, Buck.”

“Alright,” Bucky said, turning his head to the side and lifting a finger to Steve’s bare chest. “What does this say?”

Steve grinned when he drew the first letter along his collarbone. “U.”

Bucky nodded and drew the next: “R.”

“A.”

Before he could even finish the three-letter word, Steve rolled his eyes and grasped Bucky’s hand. “Sap. Yes, yes, yes, I am well aware.”

Bucky laughed, tossing his head back, as Steve tangled their hands together, bringing them to his lips, and kissed each one of Bucky’s knuckles. “ _Sap_ ,” Bucky whispered.

“What was that?” Steve asked, mock-instigating and pulling him closer.

Playing along, Bucky hummed. “ _Hm?_ What was what? You heard something?”

Steve ducked down and brushed his lips against Bucky’s cheek, muttering gainst his skin, “Say it again. What’d you call me?”

“Why? You heard me the first time.” As Steve’s eyebrows raised above his sunglasses, Bucky shook his head, unable to keep up the act any longer, and instead, he melted into Steve’s embrace as he moved his gentle pecks to his forehead. “You’re too sweet for me, Steve.”

“And you’re my sweetheart, Buck.”

Bucky rolled his eyes before allowing them to flutter closed for the third time. He could feel that Steve kept his own open, taking in every detail of Bucky’s face as he rested. After his breathing steadied, Steve lifted a hand to Bucky’s hair, lifting a strand and said with amusement, “You get a bit of blonde in you every summer, huh?”

“Excuse me?” Bucky asked, brow furrowing, as his eyes tensed even further closed.

“Your hair. Every week, it gets lighter from the sun. Your highlights are practically blonde at this point.”

“Oh.” Bucky laughed. “That’s not at all how I interpreted that.”

Steve chided him with a click of his tongue. “Jeez, babe, get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I will if you finally let me fucking sleep.”

Chuckling again, Steve nodded and pressed one last kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

They spent the rest of the day, napping off and on, occasionally interrupted by the banshee screech of a robot-baby before comforting each other and being lulled back into sleep by each other’s mere presence, full of light and love.

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

“I have something to tell you,” Steve muttered against Bucky’s ear after they had _actually_ gone to bed for the day, alongside the other exhausted Islanders who collapsed face-first into their beds, right after the babies had been deactivated and presumably shipped back to Hell.

“Hm?”

Beneath the sheets, Steve moved his hand up to Bucky’s back and started tracing letters.

When he put the pieces together, Bucky didn’t necessarily gasp, but his breathing certainly stopped. “Steve, are you serious?”

Steve gave the briefest nod, the movement odd with their foreheads pressed against each other, while he wrote a redundant _yes_ with his fingertip on Bucky's back.

“Then say it out loud.”

Smirking, Steve shook his head, mimicking Bucky’s tone from earlier in a whisper. “Why? You heard me the first time.”

Bucky sighed but brought their lips together, unable to keep himself from smiling when they pulled apart, perfectly willing to be the first to say out loud, “I love you.”

Through a relieved, breathless exhale, Steve immediately replied, “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BABIES!!!
> 
> Fun fact: This is one of the very first scenes that I wrote for this story in the notes app on my phone in October 2019. I thought it’d be so entertaining for these two so-seriously uninterested in having children (at least at this point in their lives; who knows if that’ll change over time? 😉) that they just don’t compete in a challenge. Instead, they lie back and enjoy each other’s company and tease each other, and oh yeah, they finally admit that they love each other. 
> 
> About time, huh? 
> 
> With this show being called LOVE Island, one of my main goals for this story was getting to the point where Steve and Bucky can finally say that they love each other and truly mean it. With this being one of the first scenes on paper, a lot of the story consisted of working backward, connecting the dots, to eventually get to this point. Every misstep, every challenge, every hurdle along the way truly led them to this moment, and I think it's really beautiful how they choose to do this in their own very unique way.
> 
> I would LOVE (haha) to know your thoughts! 😅 Definitely one of my favorite chapters, and I hope it's one of yours too! Please feel free to drop a comment and you can find me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets 😊
> 
> 🎧 "3WW" - Alt-J
> 
> (An odd love song that I love dearly! A minute or so in, you may be wondering ‘Why on earth did you choose this song?’, but when it hits, it hits. Hint: “3WW” = “3 worn words” ❤️)
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."Today, prepare for the Ultimate Relationship Test."


	52. Chapter 52

**Episode 52**

_I love you_.

Bucky Barnes never knew the power of those three words until they fell from the mouth of Steve Rogers. In those words were promises that would last a lifetime – a lifetime of joy, of trust, of comfort, of love. It was everything that Bucky could have ever dreamed of, and it was something that he could never live without. He never wanted to imagine a day that he didn’t wake up in Steve’s arms and wasn’t immediately told those magical three words.

That morning certainly lived up to expectations.

As the lights flashed on in the bedroom, Bucky gladly opened his eyes to the feeling of gentle kisses being pressed along the back of his neck. He flipped onto his back and turned on his side to face Steve, brushing their noses together to make him chuckle, laughter and morning breath ghosting Bucky’s lips. Steve moved his hand up from Bucky’s thigh to his waist, lightly squeezing his hip. “Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, voice wonderfully low from an excellent night’s sleep.

Unable to resist the temptation, drawn in by a magnetic pull, Bucky gave him a quick peck, smiling all the way through it. “Morning.”

Steve simply beamed at him for a few moments, blue eyes sparkling in the early morning glow, thumb drawing circles on his hipbone. Finally, he uttered the words that radiated out of his aura. “I love you.”

Bucky hummed contentedly and caused vibrations to rumble between their mouths. “I love _you_.”

“Excuse me?” a voice interrupted, forcing them to pull apart before deepening the kiss. They lifted their heads to find Riley staring at them, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m sorry? Are my ears deceiving me, or did you just say ‘ _I love you_ ’ to each other?”

Before either of them could respond, Val joined the conversation, sitting up beside Carol, who clung to her middle. “Who’s saying ‘I love you’ now?”

“Someone new is saying ‘I love you’?” Thor asked from the other side of the room.

While Bucky shook his head with a sigh, Steve chuckled and voiced both of their thoughts. “Can’t have a single moment to ourselves, huh?”

“Nope!” Riley answered immediately and hopped onto the end of their bed. “Y’all used up that moment in the Hideaway. Now, let us celebrate with you!”

In the next moment, Bucky found himself pinned against the bed, laughing, as all eight other Islanders somehow found a way to pile themselves onto his bed, cheering and crushing him and Steve against the mattress. “If this is how I die,” Steve called out, voice muffled, “just remember that I love you, Bucky.”

Of course, that comment only made the cheering louder, reaching a nearly deafening pitch. Thankfully, before anyone suffocated or anyone’s eardrums burst, the other Islanders rose from the bed and gave them the opportunity to get ready for the day.

Toweling off from his shower, Bucky realized that stubble had regrown on his legs, cotton catching on the short hairs, and paused. It had only been two days, and he already missed the silky-smooth feeling. _Dammit_ , he thought, tossing the towel to the side and turning on the water again, _Riley was right_. Bucky stepped out of the stall with smooth legs and a smile. For the hell of it, feeling like celebrating, too, he changed into the red shorts that he wore on their beach date. Paying extra attention to his hair, he dried it to blow out his curls, leaving it soft and shiny and perfect for Steve to play with outside.

Steve welcomed him to the kitchenette with coffee and a bagel – the most amazing boyfriend who he _loved_.

Conveniently timed after everyone had finished their breakfast, cleaning up their dishes, Sam's phone let out that notorious chime. “Got a text!” With the others already crowded around him, he continued to read out loud, “Islanders, yesterday was the easy challenge. Today, prepare for the Ultimate Relationship Test. #First-Impressions #Future-Family”

A nervous excitement fell over the others, while Bucky, as usual, gauged their reactions, but no one explained the cryptic message.

“What’s the Ultimate Relationship Test?” he asked Steve, joining him on an adjacent deck chair beside the pool.

Steve smirked and shook his head, giving no indication of intending to reply.

“What? You know what it is?”

“Of course, I do,” Steve said with a chuckle. “We do it every year.”

“And you’re not gonna tell me?”

“Of course not. You’re smart; you can figure it out,” Steve replied, almost uninterested but clearly amused, as he slathered sunblock onto his arms.

Bucky happily took the liberty of covering the spots he couldn’t reach, dutifully rubbing the lotion into his upper back before dipping lower, while considering what hellish challenge this Ultimate Relationship Test would be. ‘First impressions’ implied meeting new people, which put a sour taste in his mouth. In no way did he have the emotional capacity to introduce himself to new Islanders, but he knew for certain that after the night before, he had no reason to worry about his and Steve’s relationship.

But the second hashtag implied something else. “Future family,” he repeated out loud, nearly a question.

With his skin fully protected for the next thirty minutes of direct sunlight, Steve turned around with another shrug. Then, looking past Bucky, his eyes focused on the top of the deck stairs, and he nodded toward the wall of ivy. “See for yourself.”

Brow furrowed, Bucky craned his neck, twisting his head around to see a woman walking down the ivy-lined pathway. She was an older lady, on the shorter side, with medium-length dark hair, adorned with streaks of silver that she wore gracefully. Behind Vogue sunglasses, Bucky somehow knew that he would find icy-blue eyes. She looked like, so much like, but that wasn’t – she couldn’t be,

“Ma?”

Before he even knew that he was moving, Bucky sprinted up the three flights of deck stairs and ran directly into the open, waiting arms of his mother. Winifred supported him with ease, as he leaned down to rest his head against her shoulder. “My son,” she whispered with a lighthearted chuckle muffled by his chest. “My beautiful son.”

Bucky clung to her in disbelief the same way that he held her tight while she carried him inside after falling asleep in the car after a long day at the beach. The same way that he refused to let her go after she received the call about his father’s accident. The same way that he hugged her after getting his acceptance letter from Columbia and, four years later, from Columbia Law. It would forever be the way that Bucky held onto his Ma after somehow making it through seven weeks of this reality show in front of all the cameras, in front of his fellow competitors and friends, in front of the nation, and in front of the man who was perhaps the love of his life.

Although, the hug, itself, didn’t last forever.

With one hand tangled in the back of his hair, Winifred let out another laugh, leaning back to speak clearly. “My god, do you normally cry this much?”

Only then did Bucky realize the tears pouring out of his eyes, streaming down his face and dripping down his chin. Sniffling, he tried on a breathless chuckle of his own before lifting his head in an instant at the sound of another voice. “Clearly you’ve never watched _The Notebook_ with him.”

Standing tall, proud as always and taking after their father’s height, was the woman who built her empire from nothing but a dream, pursuing her passion despite being constantly told that print publications were a dying breed. Special-order from one of her favorite designers, a personal friend that she frequently highlighted on her covers, she wore perfectly-fitted, cigarette pants with a black-and-white checkered pattern and a paperbag waist. Tucked into the pants was a seemingly-homemade-yet-designer-looking t-shirt that declared in large, white block letters: #TEAM-STUCKY. In this shocked and emotionally-charged state, it took Bucky a few moments to put two and two together to understand her shirt, but he knew damn well that her studded stilettos had red soles.

With a sigh, he turned to her and opened his arms. “Becks.”

“S’up, dumbass?” she said affectionately, patting him on the back a bit too hard.

“Rebecca!” their mother immediately chastised her grown daughter before grinning. “Don’t call your dumbass brother a dumbass.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, and when he heard a third voice speak up, he focused them on the one person that he had yet to address, as she asked, “Feels like your home already, huh?”

_Nat_. Nat? Nat! In a flowy sundress, she was back in the villa, back where she belonged. “Oh my god,” Bucky gasped, throwing himself at her and wrapping her up in his arms. “You’re back! You’re not joining the show again, are you?”

“Oh, not at all,” Nat said through a laugh. When they pulled apart, she smiled, and _wow_ , it had been so long since he had seen that beautiful smile. “I’m not sure my boyfriend would approve of me going back to a dating show without him.”

Bucky gasped again. “Boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend,” Nat repeated, confident and content. “Mr. Acrobat, himself, Clint Barton.”

Bucky choked out another relieved sigh. “Oh, Nat! I’m so happy for you! You two deserve the world. Did he find you, or did you find him? Have you met in person yet since you both left?”

Nat wiped his tears away with her thumbs, chuckling. “We found each other, and yes, he stopped in New York to visit me before flying back to Vegas. Took me to that little ice cream shop I like with the weird flavors. But before you ask any more questions, we are here to talk about _you_.”

“And _your_ boyfriend!” Winifred was quick to add, making Bucky blush, shaking his head.

Realizing that they were still squeezing themselves onto the tight path, Bucky remembered his manners and guided them out to the patio, leading them over to the open seating around the unlit fire pit. “So, you’ve been watching the show?” he asked, perhaps stating the obvious, as they settled onto the bench.

All three nodded, and Winifred said, “Are you kidding me? Of course, I’m going to watch my baby boy’s television debut.”

“Yeah, it was amazing going into work after the first episode aired and being able to brag to every single one of my coworkers that my brother was on the show that they all watched the night before,” Becca added. “Well, until I learned that you didn’t know who Riley fucking Jones is! _My_ brother! And then you pulled that bullshit after Nat left. Ugh!”

Winifred hummed in discontent. “You know, my love, that you could never disappoint me, but watching that and then watching you telling your sweet Stevie to go meet someone else, I can’t say I’ve been more disappointed in you. I thought I raised you better than that.”

“Jesus, Ma,” Bucky said in disbelief. “I’d say it worked out okay in the end, though, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I’d say it worked out even better than _okay_ , dearest,” Winifred said with a wink and nudge that made Bucky’s face grow hot.

_If they had been watching every episode, did that mean they saw…?_ Unless there was a delay in the airing schedule. “What was the last episode that you all saw?” he asked, scared of the answer.

“The elimination,” Nat answered.

Winifred nodded with a pout. “Poor Peggy and Miss Angela. You know I never liked her when she first came on the show for obvious reasons, but I liked her once she found her own mate and left yours alone. I’m sure they’ll make it work on the outside.”

Nodding, Bucky realized in horror that if they had seen the elimination, then they had most definitely seen the night before that. “So, you saw the…?” Bucky trailed off, embarrassed to say it.

Becca pretended to gag. “Saw my only brother’s _whole ass_ as he waved it in front of the whole world to see in lingerie before sucking his boyfriend’s fingers like – _you know what!_ And then! If I didn’t need eye bleach already, I had to learn that there are _actual_ people that get off on _actually_ calling people _that_ in bed, and my brother is one of them!”

“Oh, god,” Bucky sighed, raising his hands to frame his head, wishing that he had a rock to crawl under and wondering in terror how much they had actually seen.

Winifred grinned. “All of us girls at the tailor shop watched that episode together, and oh sweet pea, it was delightful. Sheila – you remember Sheila? – well, I got to look that bitch right in the eye and say, ‘Hey, lady, he got those legs from _me_.’”

“ _Oh, god_ ,” Bucky repeated and ducked his head even further.

“Don’t worry,” Nat said to interrupt his inward spiraling. “They didn’t show anything _too_ explicit. Just the challenge and then you two walking into the Hideaway, talking things over. It was actually a really nice PSA on consent. Then, they showed the very beginning of the _real_ striptease, where you called Steve,” she glanced at Becca, who winced, and borrowed her terminology, “ _that_ , and the last thing we saw was Steve giving you a little, uh–”

She mimed swatting the air, and Becca rubbed her temples, like she had a headache.

“Disgusting,” Becca muttered to herself, and Bucky felt the same way, knowing that his best friend, sister, mother, and _oh_ , the _rest of the world_ had seen that all, as well.

“Oh, Rebecca! Miss Melodramatic!” Winifred said through a lighthearted laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with your brother exploring his sexuality, playing little games. It’s all natural! Please, if only you knew the games _I_ was playing at your age.”

“Ma!” Bucky and Becca exclaimed at the same time.

Bucky no longer wanted to crawl under that rock; he wanted to beat himself over the head with it. And Becca looked the exact same way.

Nat laughed, while Winifred appeared unfazed. “What? Where’s your golden beau anyway? I want to meet my future son-in-law.”

“Oh, god,” Bucky repeated once more for good luck, shaking his head.

It was a valid question, though, making Bucky wonder, _Where_ was _Steve?_ Scanning the pool deck, he found Steve sitting on the same deck chair from earlier, and he turned his head when Bucky called his name. Steve smiled, something almost nervous in his grin, when he ascended the flights of stairs.

When he reached the top, only a few feet away, Bucky felt his heart flutter, as suddenly all of the anxieties and embarrassment left his body, replaced by the warmth that burned through him when he was around the man that he loved. And, oh, this man was perfect. Starting on the left, Steve extended a hand. “Rebecca?”

“Becca is fine,” she said, and Bucky knew by the sparkle in her eye that, as a businesswoman, she was impressed by his firm handshake.

Steve waved at Nat with a polite smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” she said coolly.

When he turned to Bucky’s mother, an added tightness appeared in Steve’s shoulders, but he relaxed when Winifred rose from the bench. “No handshake for me. All hugs for Mama Barnes.”

Steve chuckled and gladly accepted her embrace, towering over her petite stature. “It’s an honor to meet you, Ms. Barnes.”

“Oh, please,” she said, clucking her tongue. “You can call me Winnie. Practically part of the family at this point.”

Ducking his head, Steve took his seat, and to his surprise, Bucky’s mother remained standing and was ( _oh, god_ ) reaching out to cup Steve’s face between her hands. “Now, let me get a good look at my baby’s future husband.”

“Ma,” Bucky groaned, involuntary at this point.

“What? What’s wrong with me wanting to get a good look at your Prince Charming? Oh, yes,” Winfred said in an approving, pleased tone. “You sure are a looker, aren’t you?” Steve’s face flushed pink beneath her palms. “Y’know, when I first saw you waiting for my baby at that dinner table, from one look alone, I told my friend Deena – you two remember Deena – I said to her, ‘Deena, that man is Jamie’s soulmate.’ Now, tell me I’m wrong!”

Steve simply shook his head, leaving Bucky to sigh. “Ma, I’m begging you.”

“Begging me what? He’s your boyfriend, James. You have nothing to be ashamed of!”

Bucky sighed again with another nod.

“Your kinks, though?” Becca posed. “You should be very ashamed.”

Bucky and Steve blushed even deeper, laughing awkwardly together, while Nat smirked.

But, ever the gregarious people-pleaser, Steve composed himself first. “So, have you been enjoying watching Bucky on the show?”

“ _Enjoyin_ g _?_ ” Winifred laughed. “It’s been one of the greatest experiences of my life! My baby’s like a movie star! Every time I check out at the grocery store, I buy every rag-mag with his face on it. I have a whole collection in my living room.”

“What?” Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes. _He was on magazine covers?_

Becca rolled her eyes. “Bucky, you’re on one of the most popular reality TV shows in the country. Of course you have spreads in all the tabloids.”

“Jesus.” Bucky looked at Steve, who shrugged.

“And your Instagram account already hit one million followers,” Nat added casually.

Eyebrows pinching together tighter, Bucky pointed out, “But I don’t have an Instagram account.”

Nat and Becca exchanged a knowing glance. “Well, you do now,” Nat explained.

“Yeah, and so many people started following you that your account got suspended. It took about three hours on the phone with customer service to convince them that Nat and I _do_ , in fact, know you and are just trying to save your handle for after the show.”

“Great,” Bucky said, shaking his head, baffled at the fact that his name had somehow accumulated that large of a following and having no interest in taking advantage of it, either.

“Speaking of after the show,” Winifred mused, “what are your plans? I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but have you two discussed how you plan to continue your relationship back home? Traditionally, this is the stage where you start saying your ‘I love you’s and think about moving in together and marriage. Are you both interested in that?”

_Well_ , at least, they were prepared for the tough question. Steve gave him a small smile, saying quietly, “I guess they wouldn’t have seen last night, huh?”

“What’s that, dear?” Winifred asked.

When Steve put his arm around his shoulders, Bucky instinctively leaned into him, telling his family, “We actually got to the ‘I love you’ stage last night.”

Nat clapped her hands, Becca gave a genuine smile, and Winifred gasped, bringing up her hands to clutch her heart. “Oh, sweetie! That’s excellent! It’s about damn time!”

Steve nodded. “I completely agree.”

“Well, then, Steven, when are you popping the question?” Winifred asked next, and Steve froze.

While Steve stumbled through a failed response, Bucky answered for him, repeating, “Ma!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Winifred laughed and brushed off his glare. “You still have a little time to figure it out, but just a little – not too much! Don’t keep my baby waiting!”

By that point, Bucky realized his words held no power, and he rolled his eyes instead, still waiting on that rock. But as he listened to Steve smoothly transition into giving a serious answer, talking about the future that he wanted for himself and for them as a couple, considering marriage to be a goal for "one day”, Bucky stared at him in awe, astounded by the situation and almost convinced that this was a mirage or dream. It was all so surreal to see his sister and mother and best friend sitting in the _villa_ on this stupid TV show, alongside his boyfriend.

And, yet, it was perfect. It was such a beautiful moment, and he didn’t wish to be anywhere else. He couldn’t have imagined a better way to introduce the man who meant so much to him to the three women who meant so much to him. The man that he was in love with, the man that his family loved, and the man that “one day” he would possibly marry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, we're really thinking about the future now, folks 😉
> 
> My apologies for this update being posted a little later than we're used to! For this last week (as my university classes start for the fall), for all my friends reading as it "airs," the remaining updates may be a little earlier/later than normal. Still daily!! Just an hour or two earlier/later. It still might be a good idea to subscribe, just to make sure you never miss a chapter (cuz WOW a lot happens as we race toward the end) 😅
> 
> I hope you enjoyed our first part of meeting the Barnes ladies and seeing Nat again! Hopefully this was a nice surprise 😊
> 
> As always, I love hearing your thoughts and comments, either here or on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets 💕
> 
> Next time on Love Island...Are y'all ready to meet Sarah Rogers??


	53. Chapter 53

**Episode 53**

“Alright, before we head out, I think there’s someone you need to introduce me to. After scarring me for life, I’d say you _owe_ it to me, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky nodded with a chuckle, unable to disagree with Becca’s request and knowing exactly who she wanted to meet. He glanced around at the other Islanders who were unsubtly watching them in curious wonder and eager excitement before spotting bleach-blonde hair and a fringed kimono wrap. “Riley!”

Riley lifted his head to reveal his beaming, toothy grin, and when he started to saunter over, wedges _thunk_ -ing against the deck, Bucky turned his attention back to Becca. Looking uncharacteristically nervous, eyes wide, she swallowed. Meeting and schmoozing icons in the fashion industry was part of her job description, part of the day-to-day, her bread and butter, but in the looming presence of Riley Jones, she appeared utterly starstruck.

But Riley looked equally blown away. “Oh my stars! You must be the one and only beautiful Becca!” Becca giggled – _giggled!_ – and accepted his hug. When they pulled apart, Riley left his hands on her shoulders, glancing back and forth between her and Bucky. “Pumpkin, you are just as pretty as your brother! My god, you two are nearly identical. There’s _two_ of them, Steven. How’s that make you feel?"

Steve laughed, while Becca shrugged off Riley’s compliments. “We get that a lot actually. Most people assume that we’re twins.”

After the initial jitters seemed to wear off, Becca wasted no time before falling into comfortable conversation with Riley, commending his fashion choices and dropping the names of the various brands and styles that he had been wearing on the show. “Oh, sugar! Look at yourself! This shirt is _brilliant_ , and I’m dying to know where you got these pants,” Riley cooed.

“Well, they’re the only pair in existence,” Becca explained, looking down at herself, “but I’d give them to you immediately if you asked.”

“That’s a mighty fine offer, dearie,” Riley said through a laugh. “I’m not sure they’d fit me, though. As I’ve explained to your brother before, I’m flat as a pancake, and looking at you, big brother, and Mama Bear, I’m realizing now that a perfect, juicy peach of a rear-end is the Barnes family legacy.”

While Riley squealed with his sister and mother, Bucky cringed. Steve squeezed his shoulder and whispered, “I mean, you _do_.”

Winifred was given her own opportunity to gush over Riley, thanking him for taking care of Bucky over the past couple of months, which Nat seconded. Afterward, when the conversation reached a natural lull, Monty Falsworth, oddly out of the usual uniform-black and wearing a light pink button-down, instructed them to wrap things up with hugs so that they could send in the next families.

Bucky accepted his hugs with a sigh, leaning into Winifred and allowing her to kiss his cheek, as he used to crinkle his nose at as a kid (…and teenager…and young adult). Becca playfully punched him in the arm, but when Riley hinted at offering to do a photoshoot for her magazine after the show, Bucky received perhaps the most genuine hug from his baby sister in years. To ruin it, he blew a raspberry against her forehead, ruffling her perfectly-curled hair, and she shoved him away, screaming, “Bucky! You’re the _worst!_ ”

Still laughing, he turned to Nat. She stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “Good luck, honey. See you in a week.”

Bucky nodded and kissed her cheek.

After he stepped back, Steve went around the circle too, offering Bucky’s family his wonderful embraces. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” he said fondly when he leaned down to hug Winifred.

“Oh, darling, the pleasure was all mine,” she said with a grin. “Hope to see you at my Thanksgiving table in a few months.”

Steve smiled at Bucky, who smiled back at him. “It’d be an honor, Winnie.”

Alongside Riley, they waved goodbye to Winifred, Becca, and Nat, and seeing them walk away would have broken Bucky’s heart if Steve wasn’t beside him, holding his hand and fueling his imagination with the thought of him at the dinner table of his childhood home for a family holiday. It was everything that he could ever dream of and maybe not even far from reality.

After the three ladies rounded the corner, no longer in sight, Bucky finally released the exhale that had been filling his lungs. “Family visits?” Bucky asked, perfectly understanding its title as the Ultimate Relationship Test.

“Yeah,” Steve said with an almost nervous nod. “I’d say it went well?”

Sensing his worries, Bucky nearly scoffed. “Please, you were absolutely perfect. I just wish my _family_ would behave.”

Steve shrugged. “They’re family. It’s their job to embarrass you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but halted his snappy response when he remembered that Monty told them that they would be sending in the next family. His heart sunk into his chest when he connected the dots. “Does that mean I’ll be meeting your mother?”

“Maybe,” Steve said and, as if reading his mind, added, “but you have nothing to worry about. She’ll love you. _I_ love you.”

Butterflies slightly slowing their flight pattern in his stomach, Bucky sighed and melted against his boyfriend.

With perfect timing, they were also in the perfect place, standing at the end of the ivy-lined pathway, to see a woman enter the villa. Bucky held his breath when she stepped onto the cobblestone. She was tall and thin, wearing a lightweight, open-net cardigan over a white tank top tucked into capris, seemingly ready for a day at the beach. Her long, straight hair still displayed flecks of a fiery red interspersed throughout a striking white. As if unable to believe her green eyes, she readjusted her cat-eye glasses before breaking into a familiar grin.

“Hello, my angel,” Sarah Rogers said to Steve, opening her arms wide.

“Ma,” Steve breathed out and closed the foot of space between them to step into her embrace.

If he hadn’t dried out his tear ducts for his own family, Bucky would have cried at the sight of mother and son reconnected. They held each other tight, as Sarah ran her hands up and down Steve’s back, just as he comforted Bucky all those times when his emotions had been overwhelming. Sarah beamed at her son when they pulled apart. “You know, dear, when I said that I’ve always wanted to see where you work, this isn’t what I meant.”

Steve let out a single huff of a laugh, brushing a thumb below both of his eyes in preparation for the tears that had yet to spill over before looking to his right. “Ma, this is Bucky. My boyfriend."

“Oh, I know who he is,” she said, and Bucky swallowed when she fixed her gaze on _him_. She narrowed her eyes beneath her glasses before smiling. “Welcome to the family, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed into her embrace, laughing off his last-minute fear that she somehow hated him. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Rogers.”

She chuckled and held onto his arm when they pulled apart. “You’re more than welcome to call me Sarah, dear.”

“Okay,” Bucky said with a nod, and Steve shot him a thumbs-up.

Looking back down the pathway, Bucky observed that she came alone, but Steve didn’t seem to notice, moving them over to the fire pit. “Have you been watching the show, Ma?” he asked, sitting between her and Bucky.

“Now, Steven, you know that I don’t normally watch the show. Frankly, I find it repulsive what he puts these poor people through,” Sarah said to Bucky. “But with my Stevie in the game this season, of _course_ , I’m going to watch! Although, I missed the first week, because he never once told me that. Do you know how embarrassed I was to find out through my coworkers that my only son was a contestant on the TV show that he produced?”

“I didn’t know until the season started, Ma!” Steve protested.

She didn’t seem to listen. “I missed his first date with his future boyfriend, and I had to watch it on his aunt’s DVR. It was beautiful, obviously – even if I was a bit disturbed by some of your topics of conversation and a bit more disturbed by some of your answers,” she said, tossing Steve a brief glare, “–but it was a beautiful moment. I knew right away that you had an incredibly special connection, and even through the difficult times, it’s been so rewarding watching your relationship develop. You certainly made some memories by the ocean, and I’m very, very happy for you two.”

Steve ducked his head, as the expected blush accompanied the movement, and he lowered his voice. “We’re happy too, Ma.”

“Well, after a night alone in a private suite, I’m sure you’re _very_ happy.”

Now, it was Steve’s turn to groan, saying, “Oh, god."

Sarah gave Bucky an honest-to-god wink, and Steve shook his head, appearing to look around for that rock Bucky wanted earlier.

When he composed himself enough to speak, Steve asked, “Did you come alone, Ma?”

She nodded. “Your Aunt Cathleen couldn’t get off work, dear. I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve said and reached out to squeeze her hand. “I still got you.”

“And us.”

_Damn producers and their dramatic timing_.

Looking over his shoulder, Steve’s eyes widened, and he let out a disbelieving laugh at the sight of those damn producers rounding the corner. Stripped from their normal all-black outfits and headsets and clipboards, Dum Dum, Jones, Monty, Jim, _and_ Dernier stood together in everyday, summer clothes that appeared to be borrowed from the Islanders’ communal wardrobe. In a Hawaiian shirt covered in a tropical rainforest pattern with a few brightly-colored toucans scattered throughout, Dum Dum extended his arms. “There’s our boy!”

“My favorite couple!” Jones said with a wide grin.

“You guys!” Steve laughed, standing from the bench and walking over to his coworkers and clearly friends.

Immediately, he was surrounded by the producers who gave him casual, stereotypical bro hugs, dapping up like a frat house. As if he was the newest recruit, they shoved him, tousling his hair, and pushed him in the direction of the fire pit. The five squeezed him into the middle of their group around the bench, leaving Bucky and Sarah to scooch closer together. In her presence, so close, Bucky felt the nerves return, but she offered him a small smile to relax him. The producers reached across the fire pit to politely introduce themselves, and she gave them the same smile in return.

Then, they turned to Bucky. “ _You_ ,” Dernier said, narrowing his eyes and setting the tone for this conversation. “The contestant from my nightmares.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, as Jim nodded in agreement. “Amazing how after six years of meeting countless gorgeous people, you finally find the one who may be more stubborn than you and decide, ‘ _That’s_ the one for me.’”

“Power couple in bullheadedness,” Monty summarized succinctly.

“But a power couple, nonetheless,” Jones said with a grin, and when he saw Dum Dum roll his eyes, added, “Not my fault you picked Val and Thor as your final.”

“Seriously, though,” Jim interjected, sparing a glance at Sarah and clapping Steve on the shoulder, “we couldn’t be happier for you, man. It’s about time our golden boy finds his match. Obviously, we can’t say much, but we all think you two are perfect for each other. _All_ of us.”

Eyeing Bucky, Dernier smirked. “I never wanted you here. You know that. I didn’t think you were here to take the show seriously, and I thought you were a whistleblower set out to ruin the show. In a way, I was correct. When you pulled that stunt with Riley, I thought my career was over. I called my husband in tears, thinking that after eleven years, everything that I had ever worked for would be thrown away. All because of two twinks who can’t keep their mouths shut.”

Bucky let out a shocked laugh but allowed him to continue.

“I was afraid that you two were correct. That _we_ were the monsters and this show that I worked so hard to bring over was more harm than good. But, then, you two also proved to me over the weeks that true love _can_ actually be found on Love Island. As I always intended. So, I truly am happy for you and Riley. I am very happy for you and Steve.”

As if he was a contestant on his own show, Dernier’s speech couldn’t have been any more perfect. Bucky looked up to see Steve, grinning after being given his boss’ blessing, and on Bucky’s right, Sarah grinned too. “I couldn’t be any happier that you two found each other,” she said.

“Y’know,” Steve started off with, lowering his eyes shyly and dropping his voice to a more intimate, serious tone, “I think that we would have found each other at some point in our lives no matter what, because that’s how the universe works. I think that every single person on this planet has a soulmate that they are bound to meet eventually, and for me, I know that Bucky is my soulmate. If we hadn’t gone through this journey together, I know that we would have found each other somewhere else. Maybe, when I visited you back home, Ma, I bumped into him at a coffee shop or the same pizza shop, grabbing a slice at the same time, but maybe that wouldn’t happen for a few more years. _This_ , right here, right now, was the perfect time to meet you. I can’t thank you all enough for being here to support us, because this was the most life-changing experience of my life and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.”

Misty-eyed, Bucky gazed at him, as always, blown away by his beautiful words, while Sarah rested her hand on top of his to show her support.

But Steve’s coworkers shared a different interpretation of his little speech. The five producers groaned, as if in pain, and Dum Dum rolled his eyes. “My god, you _are_ a sap.”

“Slow down, Romeo,” Monty said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Shaking his head, Jones slapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and looked across the fire pit. “Has he always been this much of a hopeless romantic, Ms. Rogers?”

Sarah chuckled but gave a slow nod that made Steve shrink back in his seat. “ _Always_. He’s always been my little romantic, seeing the good in people and believing in true love. I still remember his senior year of high school when–”

“Ma,” Steve interrupted, but as everyone else leaned toward her, she continued telling the story.

“He’d always had a crush on this beautiful girl. Top of the class, cheerleader, pretty brunette – you all know his type. Well, he finally worked up the courage to ask her to prom–”

“It was just Homecoming, Ma,” Steve sighed, raising a hand to his forehead.

“Regardless, he worked up the courage to ask this girl to a _dance_ , and he did it by reciting one of Shakespeare’s love sonnets to her.”

Fondly, without even realizing that he was moving, Bucky placed a hand over his chest, as he imagined little, seventeen-year-old Stevie memorizing 17th-century poems to impress the girl that he liked, but present-day Steve let out another sigh.

Sarah gave a sigh of her own before finishing the story. “She said no, but that’s just her loss, right?”

Bucky felt a tiny crack in his heart, thinking of little, seventeen-year-old Stevie getting rejected, retreating down the hallway with his head hanging low, while the producers appeared to be holding in their laughter. As the most composed, Jim shrugged. “Sorry to hear that, man, but I’d it worked out for you in the end.”

With a scoff, Steve nodded. “Thanks, guys. I think I’ve been able to move on since then.”

Smiling, Bucky met his eye to give his approval, and Sarah spoke for him, “I think so too, dear.”

After another moment of smiles, the producers seemed to remember the work that they were required to perform. “Not to cut things short,” Dernier said, “but we do have eight other families to introduce before sundown.”

Getting the hint, Sarah rose from the bench, and Bucky followed her lead. While Steve said goodbye to his coworkers, Bucky faced his (maybe, perhaps, one day) future-mother-in-law. “It’s been so nice getting to know you, Sarah. Your son means the world to me.”

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, as Dum Dum and Jones sandwiched Steve into a hug, Sarah said simply, “You mean the world to him too.” Bucky involuntarily held his breath at her words, such a tremendous power in the statement that she uttered so casually, sending chills throughout his body. His heart stuttered in his chest when he stepped into her embrace, and she held him close, patting his back. “I hope to see you again back in New York. Maybe we can have dinner together, and I can tell you more embarrassing stories about Steve.”

Bucky laughed when they pulled apart to see Steve waiting for them with a sour expression at his mother’s offer. “Really, Ma?”

Sarah shook her head with a gentle chuckle and wrapped Steve in her arms. “And, _you_ , mister, I hope to see you back home more often.”

“Oh, I definitely think you will,” Steve said, tossing a wink over her shoulder at Bucky.

With his arm around her back, Steve walked Sarah back over to the ivy-lined pathway, where they exchanged one last hug before she turned to walk away.

The gaggle of producers followed her out, and when they were all out of sight, Steve turned to Bucky with a sigh. “You alright?” Bucky asked before Steve almost immediately collapsed onto him, holding onto him for support.

Face buried against the side of Bucky’s neck, Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky said, concerned, raising a hand to curl into Steve’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Steve replied, contradicting himself with the ragged breath that he took next. “I just love her so much, Bucky. She sacrificed so much to make sure that she could provide for me and give me a good life. She doesn’t mean to, but every time I see her, she makes me feel guilty about not being around more enough. It’s not my fault that my career took me out west. I visit her for the holidays and those two weeks before the season starts every year, but it never feels like enough. And now – now, I have you in my life, and I want nothing more than to make our relationship work on the outside, but I know that can’t happen if we only see each other twice a year. And I can’t ask you to give up everything–”

Before he started to hyperventilate, Bucky knew that he had to interrupt him and did so by placing both hands on Steve’s shoulders and stepping back so that they could look each other in the eye. “Steve. Relax.”

Steve did the opposite, tensing beneath Bucky’s hands, but he at least lifted his head to face him.

“I know it won’t be easy when we get back to our regular lives, but we’ll get through it. Together. This isn’t just some summer fling that we push aside when we go back to our jobs and apartments. You’re my boyfriend, and I love you. You’ve helped me feel things that I never knew were possible, and those feelings aren’t just going to go away because we’re thousands of miles apart from each other. I know that we’re going to do our best to keep in contact. I’ll happily live on Skype and FaceTime for you and stay up until ungodly hours at night until it’s convenient to talk. If we only see each other in person twice a year, that’s fine. We’ll cherish those moments and figure out the rest. For now, let’s enjoy this last week we have together and start to prepare ourselves for the outside, okay?”

At first, Steve remained still, appearing to process what Bucky had said, but slowly, he started to smile. Ducking his head, he looked at Bucky through those long lashes. “I love it when you’re sappy."

That comment forced a laugh from Bucky’s lungs, and he moved his arms to wrap around Steve’s neck, pushing their foreheads together. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Got it,” Steve said with a more lighthearted sigh. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right, and I’m sorry if I overreacted. I’m sure I’ll overreact again, but it’s only because I’m so scared of ruining this. I love you, and I never want to lose you.”

“I love you too, Steve. You’re not going to ruin this. _Neither_ of us are going to ruin this. What we have is special, and hey, both our Ma’s agree.”

Steve’s chuckle brushed over Bucky’s lips before letting their mouths brush together, as well.

Although Bucky happily would have melted into the kiss, living in that liquid state for eternity, the hot sun beating against the side of his face reminded him where they were standing, blocking the pathway. He pulled away, bringing Steve with him, and had to laugh to break apart the kiss. “I love you and would love to continue this with you, but maybe we should move over to our favorite daybed so the others can see their families.”

“Fair enough.”

Lying back on that daybed, a perfect vantage point to watch the next families arrive, gathering around the fire pit, Bucky leaned into Steve’s side, as Steve laid an arm around the back of his neck. Val’s parents were next, and Steve explained to Bucky that they were apparently both Olympic-level athletes like their daughter. They were equally as gorgeous too! Carol’s father, older brother, and younger sister – a perfectly normal, average, Midwest family – walked down the ivy-lined pathway for her, and they looked unbelievably thrilled to meet Val.

Of course, Janet Van Dyne appeared for Hope, alongside her husband who was a handsome, silver-haired actor that Bucky _actually_ recognized. (Steve chuckled and told him that he was proud of him.) For once, Janet’s presence in the villa wasn’t met with instant anxiety and terror; although, Scott may have still been feeling that way. But the nerves were instantly replaced by a joyful grin, at a loss for words, kneeling on the ground and opening his arms for a young girl who ran down the cobblestone.

“Scott’s daughter?” Bucky asked, and Steve nodded.

After hugging her father, Cassie immediately ran over to Hope, nearly tackling her by throwing her arms around her legs. Hope laughed but easily supported her, and all three sat around the fire pit to talk. Even from an outside perspective, it was heartwarming to watch Scott introduce his daughter to Hope, and when Cassie left, guided out by Scott’s best friend, Hope and Scott weren’t the only two Islanders shedding a few tears.

Like Carol, Jane’s parents were everyday people, a little geeky in the best way, but the brunette woman who came with them made the other Islanders cheer. A few actually introduced themselves to her, complimenting her appearance on the show, as Bucky remembered that Jane’s best friend had been an Islander on a previous season. Assuming that they had interacted, Bucky glanced at Steve. “Do you want to go say hi?”

Steve shook his head. “If one more person goes over there, she’ll spend the rest of the day talking to them, and we’ll never be able to get her to leave. Trust me. It took _hours_ for her to say her goodbyes after getting eliminated.”

Well, it didn’t take _hours_ for her to say goodbye to Jane and Thor and the others that had gathered, but they did spend quite a bit more time in the villa than the previous families. Their exit triggered the entrance of Thor’s parents, a stunning couple with an undeniable air of power, but Bucky felt a chill in the air pass over the villa at the sight of a tall man with long, black hair.

“Oh, shit,” Steve muttered. “I didn’t think he’d actually show up for this.”

“Who?”

“Thor’s brother. He was on season _one_. Way before my time. He was the first ‘villain,’ but the audience loved him. A huge fan-favorite, kind of a love-to-hate and hate-to-love type guy.”

Bucky shrugged and watched the man exchange a tense hug with Thor, but turning the attention on meeting Jane, the conversation appeared to flow easily. Still, a different level of tension hung in the atmosphere after the man left with his parents.

That left only one couple’s families to be introduced, and Sam and Riley were already in place at the end of the pathway to welcome Sam’s parents and sister. Sam clearly received his father’s height and his mother’s warm grin, and just like Bucky and Becca, Sam’s sister inherited the same traits. They immediately surrounded Riley, pouring out love, just as Sam peppered him with compliments every chance that he got. Sam’s laughter could be heard across the villa, as he asked his mother to please let go of his boyfriend. Their conversation was clearly full of laughter and light and love – exactly as they learned to associate with Sam. Riley sat comfortably in the middle of Sam’s family, cracking jokes and being himself, as if they had known each other for years.

Bucky couldn’t have felt happier for them when Riley exchanged hugs and promises to see each other again with Sam’s family before they left.

In the brief lapse of time that he had to picture what Riley’s parents could like, nothing could have prepared Bucky for the couple that walked down the cobblestone. Somehow, they were exactly what he imagined, but at the same time, nothing that he imagined. For having a 6’3” son, both of them were average height, perhaps even on the shorter side. With long, white hair and a matching long, white beard, Riley’s father looked like he could have been a biker or a mall Santa or both. But in place of a leather jacket or red suit, he wore a tie-dye t-shirt beneath a fringed vest, and _well_ – Bucky didn’t expect much else.

Riley’s mother, on the other hand, had her bleach-blonde hair cut into a short bob with the tips dyed hot pink, as if she went to the same salon as her son. Borrowing his fashion sense, as well, she wore a floral-print top tucked into bellbottoms with wedge heels, but Riley still towered over her when he swept her into his arms. Just like her son, she squealed.

As excited as they were to see Riley, they appeared even more excited to see Sam, welcoming him in with hugs and smiles. Riley visibly breathed out a sigh of relief. Watching the four of them sit around the fire pit, Bucky leaned closer to Steve, reminded of their own conversations with each other’s families, as Riley’s parents asked them about the future. They gave similar answers – not entirely certain, not concrete plans, but hope and confidence that their relationships would make it in the real world.

It was hope and confidence that _love_ would get them through any obstacle that they may face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL. THE. FAMILIES. 😅
> 
> I hope you enjoyed meeting the lovely Sarah Rogers, as well as being officially introduced to The Howlies - they're truly good people, aside from the drama of their jobs 😂 And I hope you enjoyed some other cameos too! 😉
> 
> Your thoughts and comments constantly keep me inspired; thank you so much!!! We are ONE WEEK away from the final chapter, which is equal parts terrifying and exciting, but I think you're going to be incredibly happy! 😊
> 
> Next time on Love Island...Let's leave it a surprise, shall we? 😉


	54. Chapter 54

**Episode 54**

After meeting each other’s families the day before, Bucky wondered what the producers could possibly throw at them next. But, no matter what it was, he was prepared and eager to face the challenge head-on.

Thankfully, the surprise was a good one and not a challenge at all.

Establishing the atmosphere in the villa that day, Thor received the first text message and read it aloud to the other Islanders who were still puttering around the kitchenette, yawning and cleaning dishes from breakfast. “Jane and Thor, please prepare to leave the villa for your final date. #Surfs-Up #Something-Fishy”

They all cheered for the two when Thor lifted Jane into the air with one arm, screaming happily at the sky. The others chuckled, knowing that he had been itching for nearly two months to surf again, missing the waves that fueled his blood, his life, and his career. As he practically carried her into the bedroom, Thor babbled about how excited he was to teach her how to surf, assuming that the opportunity would be part of the date.

Looking particularly tired that morning, Steve stretched his arms out in front of him and wiped the sleep from his eyes, while answering the question that Bucky had yet to ask. “So, today is the day when all of the couples get to go on their final dates. It’s their last chance to really be alone and impress the audience before the last elimination and finale. Every couple gets a date at some point throughout the day, and they’re usually over-the-top, really grand and special. It’s sort of our thank you to the contestants for making it through the whole process but also a reminder of everything they earned for getting through to the end of the competition.”

“That sounds amazing,” Bucky said, and when Jane and Thor came back an hour or so later, eagerly spilling the details of their final date, it sounded even more amazing.

Thor had been correct in his guess that they would be surfing together, and he took great pride in helping Jane get to the point where she was comfortable riding a small wave on her knees. He also beamed when Jane gushed about how he boasted his own talent for her, swimming much deeper into the water and pulling off tricks on a much larger wave. After a few more crashed waves, evident in their messy and damp hair, they apparently moved to a mellower area of the water where they could snorkel and marvel at the coral and fish, as hinted at by the second hashtag. While saying their goodbyes to the beach, they shared a kiss at the edge of the waves, which they all applauded for after hearing the whole story.

With their expectations certainly built up, Val and Carol looked deservedly thrilled when they received their text that they would be next to leave the villa. Playfully shoving each other down they pathway, they returned with bubbling, contagious laughter, ready to tell the others about how they had spent the remainder of the morning on Val’s home turf: a tennis court. Carol rolled her eyes when telling the other Islanders how Val threw the game to let her win, but Val shook her head, _swearing_ that they played a fair match. (She winked at the others to tell them otherwise.) They shared a light lunch in the shade of a blooming flower garden, surrounded by brilliantly-colored hibiscuses and fragrant lilies. Giggling, they told the others about how Val sprinted away from the table, screaming, after spotting a bee, but Carol called after her in hysterics that it was just a friendly, harmless bumbler.

Bucky had to admit that he was somewhat jealous when Hope and Scott received the next text, as anticipation continued to grow, mind swimming with ideas of what his date with Steve would be – when it _finally_ happened. Hope and Scott returned later in the afternoon, still buzzing with energy after being taken to a racetrack to take turns driving laps in a luxury sports car. While Scott raved about the vibrant yellow color and the fact that it was a convertible, Hope talked shop about the car’s impressive engine statistics and horsepower and other technical terms that flew way over Bucky’s head. But Bucky understood perfectly well when Hope said that she asked Scott to be her boyfriend after taking their final lap around the course, saying that she would gladly take a mini-van over a Lambo if she could be involved in helping him raise Cassie.

Sitting next to each other on adjacent deck chairs by the pool, with their boyfriends on each side, Bucky and Riley held each other’s hands, as they waited for the text that would reveal the final order of the day.

Bucky’s heart only slightly deflated when Riley’s phone let out a chime, but he couldn’t have felt happier for his new friend when he returned with Sam after the sun had fallen behind the rolling hills in the distance. Riley’s blush gave the rest of the Islanders the indication that the date had gone, as expected, exceptionally well. Playing into Sam’s line of work, the clue in the hashtags of being “up in the air” referred to taking a hot air balloon ride. Riley admitted that he was shaking the entire time that they stepped into the basket and started to rise, but with Sam by his side, holding him tight, the nerves went away so he could enjoy the gorgeous views from above the island. From the perspective of the clouds, they watched the sun set, lighting up the sky in watercolor hues, seeing it transition before their eyes from calm blue to radiant orange to gentle pink to the deep violet of the night, just as they landed back on the ground.

As soon as his boyfriend finished describing their incredible journey, Sam quipped that Riley was even more beautiful than the stunning views, spoken with genuine sincerity.

With four dates down and only one left, the other Islanders turned toward the only couple who had yet to receive their final date. They both held out their phones, but Bucky’s was the one to chime. “Bucky and Steve, please prepare to leave the villa for your final date. #Dazzling-Duet #Wondrous-Waltz”

_Music and dancing?_ Bucky raised an eyebrow, and Steve shrugged.

After Monty pulled them aside to say that semi-formal was encouraged, they learned when stepping outside together that they apparently shared the same idea for their outfits, wearing their suits from the prom. Finally, Bucky could appreciate Steve in those perfectly-tailored, navy-blue lines and rest a hand on his crisp, clean white dress shirt, as Steve ran his own hand down the velvet fabric of his jacket. “Hi there, man of my dreams,” Bucky said, words falling out of his mouth before he could cringe at them.

Steve didn’t cringe at all, grin widening, moving his hand up to grasp Bucky’s lapel. “Hi there, love of my life.”

Bucky smiled into the kiss, and when they pulled, he slipped his hand into the crook of Steve’s elbow so that they could walk to their date together, side-by-side.

“Best for last, right?” Steve asked after they had been led quite far from the villa.

_Best_ was an understatement.

A modern building sat at the top of a hill, boxy, all glass windows, dark wood and right angles, with those patio heaters with fire burning in a glass tube at the entrance. The head chef of the restaurant, a tall woman with a commanding presence who probably had Michelin stars to her name, walked them through the main dining area. As if the restaurant had been exclusively rented out for them, every table was set but unoccupied. Even more private, she led them to the back patio, holding the door open for them to descend the stairs together. They were immediately greeted with the sight of a single circular table, arranged with two chairs and a gorgeous floral centerpiece of red roses and baby’s-breath. A candle burned in a simple holder in the center of the table, and more candles on stands of various heights surrounded them. The ethereal golden glow reminded Bucky of their first date when he could officially introduce himself to the man that captured his attention from the moment they met, and reminding him of their second date, the deck provided them with the perfect view to overlook the beach where that man asked him to be his boyfriend.

Welcoming them, sitting at a grand piano and ornate harp a few feet away on what appeared to be a small but designated dance floor, the two musicians raised their hands to their instruments and softly began to play. The low drone of open-spaced chords with the pianist’s left hand set the calming accompaniment for the harpist to supply the twinkling, dreamlike melody. In a way, the duet reminded Bucky of the night sky that he gazed at in awe, taking in their picturesque surroundings. The deep indigo sky reminded him of the dark, sonorous intervals of the bass from the piano, while the gleaming flecks of silver light sounded like the consonant plucked strings of the harp.

Bucky smiled at the thought, recalling the night when Steve guided him through the constellations, and took his seat after Steve pulled out his chair for him before taking his own on the opposite side of the table.

The chef stood beside them and explained that they would be sampling a variety of the island’s fresh-caught fish and shellfish through a grandiose number of courses. She gestured to the bottle of champagne, chilling in a bucket on the table, and added that each dish paired perfectly with the sparkling wine, subtly hinting that they were welcome to open it while she prepared the first appetizer.

“May I?” Steve asked.

Bucky grinned at Steve excitedly reaching for the bottle, waggling his fingers. “Well, it _is_ your assigned job by now.”

Despite having all summer to get acclimated to the sound, Bucky flinched at the _pop!_ and stared at the musicians, amazed that they continued to play in sync with each other, ebbing and flowing with the romantic melody and harmony. Steve chuckled at his surprise and handed him his glass – _real_ glass again, a beautiful crystal that sparkled, reflecting back multiple colors, in the candlelight.

Raising his champagne flute, Bucky joined Steve in making a toast. “To us?” he suggested.

Steve gave a simple nod. “Everything we’ve been through that made us stronger, this exact moment that we’ll cherish forever, and the countless memories we’ll make together that’ll last a lifetime. To our past, present, and future.”

They tapped their glasses together, creating a delightful ring, and before taking a sip, Bucky muttered with his eyes purposefully trained on Steve, “Sap.”

Clearly hearing him, as Bucky intended, Steve gave an exaggerated sigh, which only made the champagne taste sweeter, bubbles fizzing along Bucky’s tongue. He savored the drink’s complexity: the acidic notes of citrus, the bitterness of the dry wine, the almost vanilla-like finish. That thought process made Bucky let out a short laugh to himself before leaning into the table. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “I mean, as long as you’re fine with the rest of the United States knowing it too.”

“Considering the fact that the rest of the United States has already seen my ass before calling my boyfriend ‘Daddy’, I don’t think they’ll care too much about this,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. Still, he wanted to tell Steve this, and he looked down at his glass, swirling it on the table. “I don’t really like champagne. Going into our first date, I actually didn’t like it at all and only kept drinking it to kill my nerves. On the second date, it was a little more palatable, but now? Now, I love it. What used to be bitter and acidic is now sweet and vibrant. I love it, because I love you. I associate it with you, so now, I think it’s my favorite drink. I can’t believe you made me love champagne.”

With perfectly imperfect timing, the chef returned before Steve could truly reply, compromising by giving Bucky a sweet smile and rubbing their ankles together beneath the table, hidden by the linen tablecloth.

Once the first course was introduced, the food never stopped coming. They started with raw oysters, “an aphrodisiac,” dressed lightly with lemon, and as soon as they finished them, the chef exchanged their plates for crispy shrimp tempura to be dipped in a spicy-sweet chili sauce. Throughout their seemingly-endless dinner, they tasted nearly every flavor in existence, ranging from a savory marinade on salmon cooked over a wood-fire grill to the zesty tang of lime juice from the ceviche. They shared fluffy crab cakes over a bed of creamy, parmesan risotto and scallops tossed in a honey-garlic sauce over rice seasoned with a variety of herbs. Topping off the seafood portion of the evening, they split two of the largest lobster tails that Bucky had ever seen in his entire life, so succulent that they didn’t even need the melted butter.

As delectable as the slice of dense torte appeared at the end of the meal, Bucky felt so ridiculously full that he could hardly enjoy the decadent, rich chocolate or the fresh whipped cream or the tart raspberry compote...but _okay, fine_ , Bucky could stomach just one bite. And then another. And another. Until he chased away Steve’s spoon to steal the final bite, restraining himself from licking the remnants on the plate.

Unceremoniously dropping his spoon on the table, Bucky groaned, clutching his stomach and wondering if anyone would notice or care if he popped the button on his tight-now-even-tighter pants. The regret started to set in for taking that last bite, but _fuck, it was so good_.

With a pained glaze in his eyes, Steve appeared to be struggling through the same personal dilemma. “I think I died and went to seafood heaven,” Bucky said, holding back a burp that would definitely disrupt the tone of the evening, quite dissonant to their lovely background music.

Steve nodded and wiped his mouth with his napkin, cleaning off the streak of raspberry sauce that Bucky had been intending to lick. Giving a delayed response to Bucky’s statement, Steve sighed, apparently still at a loss for words to describe their unbelievable meal. The dinner had not been necessarily conducive for inspiring steady conversation, either stuffing their mouths full or forced to listen to the chef explain her creations. Like listening to Hope explain the specifics of the sports car, Bucky barely understood a single word of the technical jargon about various cooking techniques and styles, but he nodded along with a polite smile.

They had sparse conversations in between courses, mostly talking about how incredible the food tasted or how beautiful the music sounded. At one point, Steve recalled that Bucky had musical experience and asked what instrument he played. Bucky laughed and told him that he hadn’t played his violin in years, assuming that it was collecting dust in the attic of his childhood home.

“Would you ever play for me?” Steve asked playfully.

Bucky snorted into his champagne flute. “Only if you’d want to hear a very simple, very squeaky etude at, like, a middle school level.”

Steve said that he looked forward to the recital.

Throughout their dinner, the topics were light, nothing substantial and nothing serious, keeping the air between them comfortable. But, after dessert, as Steve almost avoided Bucky’s gaze, staring vacantly at the empty plate or over at the dark waves crashing against the shoreline below, something shifted. As if to illustrate, a breeze rustled the back of Bucky’s neck, chilling him and making him tense in the same way that Steve locked his jaw.

Confronting his nerves, Bucky swallowed the lump that was growing in his throat and asked quietly, “Is everything okay?”

Hearing Bucky’s concern must have awoken something in Steve, and head snapping over, he instantly met Bucky’s eyes with an apologetic, somewhat bashful half-smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep too well last night.”

If that was Steve’s attempt at reassuring him, it didn’t exactly work, and Bucky felt his eyebrows pinch together. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking,” Steve explained vaguely with another sigh, rubbing his shoulder and demonstrating that perhaps the nerves were mutual.

Bucky offered Steve his hand, open on the table, as a way to support him, hopefully encouraging him to talk. “Thinking about what?”

Steve immediately accepted his hand and rubbed his thumb gently across Bucky’s knuckles. “About us. And I know that sounds scary, and I don’t mean for it to be. I’ve just been thinking about my own life and what I hope to achieve one day and how our relationship factors into that.”

“Okay,” Bucky said calmly, while inwardly screaming at the suddenly-serious tone of this conversation, horrified by the millions of possibilities that Steve’s set-up posed. But at the same time, Bucky knew that the person holding his hand was his boyfriend, the man that he loved and the man that he promised to support no matter what. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Nodding, Steve took a deep breath before giving it a shot. “Yesterday was kinda hard for me. Obviously, you saw that after my Ma left. I pulled myself together, but on the inside, I felt a whole lot worse. Seeing your mother and sister and best friend, meeting them for the first time, really put into perspective the things I really want in life. Your family’s incredible, Bucky, Nat included. They tease you and make jokes because they love you and care about you. They’re amazing and the exact types of people that I could only dream of having in my life. Don’t get me wrong; I love my Ma so much, and I wouldn’t be here right now without her support. Still, I felt a little sad yesterday when she was the only person to show up for me.”

Steve paused, as if waiting for Bucky to interject, but Bucky shook his head and allowed him to continue. “I know my aunt was busy, and that’s fine. I don’t really have a lot of close family anyway, but in terms of friends? It made me realize that, yeah, my coworkers basically are my only friends. I’ve always been so focused on pursuing my career, building connections with people in the industry, that I sort of forgot to build a personal life.”

Bucky nodded, having done the same, as Steve knew.

“Yesterday was a huge wake-up call for me, seeing the other producers walk out as my only friends. It broke my heart and really forced me to realize that as much I appreciate everything that they’ve done for me, I need more than them in my life. I need – I need _you_ , Bucky. You make me so happy, and I never want to lose you.”

With the hand that wasn’t holding Steve’s, Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, needing to cool his flushing face, able to let out a sigh of relief. “Of course, Steve. Me too.”

Finally breaking through the nervousness, Steve gave him a small grin. “I’m imagining that you’ve also been spending a lot of time thinking about how we can make this work on the outside.”

_Of course_ , Bucky had. He certainly spent plenty of mornings and afternoons and late nights, wondering how Steve could fit into his life back home. As much as he loved Steve and was willing to follow him anywhere, he couldn’t simply abandon his practice and move out to California, especially this early in their relationship. Even though it felt like they had been together for years, they had only known each for about two months, but Bucky knew that their connection was so _real_. It was genuine, and he could easily picture it lasting for years and years and years. And their families agreed! Still, it was hard to imagine how they would adapt to the distance.

“I don’t know about you, but those thoughts have been terrifying me,” Steve continued, perfectly summarizing Bucky’s inner monologue. “It’s depressing to think that I’ve been living with my boyfriend for almost eight weeks now, completely surrounded by each other for most of that time, and that’s all going to stop when we both go home. I’m dreading the thought of going back to my empty apartment. Alone. An entire country of space between us.”

Bucky looked down at the table. His new favorite wine, the last course of their magnificent meal, their clasped hands. In a few days, this would all be over. Not their relationship, but the _convenience_. The ability to wake up beside each other, spend the entire day together, and fall asleep at each other’s side at the end of the day. Steve was right, and Bucky had shared that realization many times over the previous week, pushing it to the back of his mind when it twisted his stomach and brought tears to his eyes.

“We’ll make it work long-distance,” Bucky said, and he meant it.

He knew that they would; it would just be difficult. Another obstacle to overcome. They could text each other all day long, and Bucky would happily sneak peeks at his phone below his desk while clients reviewed the paperwork on top of it. They could call each other at the end of the day, falling asleep to each other’s voice, and they could FaceTime so that they could see each other’s faces, kissing the camera at the same time and still feeling sparks. _Oh_ , Skype sex could be fun, right? Hell, Bucky would even download Snapchat if it allowed them to stay in contact the best.

They could do this, and they _would_ do this.

“I know we will,” Steve agreed and ran his thumb along the back of Bucky’s hand. “But I don’t want to do that.”

Heart tightening, instinctively holding his breath, Bucky narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Not like that!” Steve instantly corrected himself, shaking his head, apparently seeing the fear in Bucky’s body language. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t plan this through it all, so please just give me a chance to explain myself.”

Letting out a nervous laugh, Bucky quirked an eyebrow. “Okay.”

Steve steadied himself with another deep breath before trying again. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot, but I’ve also been thinking about my career and what I want to accomplish. This show has been all I’ve known, and it’s been incredible. I wouldn’t have traded these six years for anything else in the world. I have an Emmy to my name, and I’ve helped dozens of people find the loves of their lives. I found the love of _my_ life.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile, relaxing in his seat.

“But I’ve broken far more hearts in the process as a producer, and I don’t think I can do that anymore. I can’t do this job anymore. I’m ready to move on and do so much more with my life. It’s my goal to win an Oscar at some point, and I have a ton of ideas for projects that are purely my own creation. Documentaries that _need_ to be made, giving voices that deserve to be heard the chance to be projected. So, I made the decision last night to leave my job here, and I’m moving back home to New York. Brooklyn.”

As his heart swelled, Bucky’s eyes widened, squeezing Steve’s hand on impulse. _Steve in Brooklyn_. It felt like a dream. It felt unreal. It felt too good to be true. In an instant, they moved from thousands of miles apart to maybe only a few blocks away.

While Bucky’s jaw dropped, Steve wasn’t finished. “I’m ready to settle down and get a place that I can call my home. And, if you’d be interested, I want you to move in with me. Actually, I’d want us to look for houses together and find one that we can make our own.” Steve sighed, laying down the last card of his hand, and gazed across the table. “What do you think?”

Bucky raised a hand to his mouth when he felt the first tear roll down his face. _What did he think?_ His brain froze, overwhelmed with emotion, still trying to process every word, but he knew deeply that Steve’s offer was everything that he ever could have wanted.

But, as if he needed encouragement, Steve continued, defending himself. “I know that was a lot to throw at you. I completely understand if you don’t have an answer ready for me, but I think we’re ready for this. My lease in L.A. is up at the end of August, so that would give us about a month to really think this through and decide if we think it’s time–”

Bucky couldn’t listen any longer. Tossing his napkin onto the plate, he shoved his chair back and crossed to the other side of the table. He threw his arms around Steve’s neck, bending down to hold him close to his chest. “Yes, Steve!” he cried out, sobbing onto the top of his head, while Steve held onto his waist.

Steve chuckled and soon remedied their awkward position by encouraging Bucky to sit on his lap. Keeping his arms locked in place, Bucky followed Steve’s gentle touches on his back and sat sideways across his thighs. Bucky pressed watery kisses across his face, and Steve used his hands along Bucky’s jaw to guide him into one that lingered, pressing their mouths together.

When they pulled apart, Steve stared into Bucky’s eyes in awe. “You really want to move in with me?”

Bucky scoffed, wiping away the tears; _goddammit, he really did cry at everything_. “Of course, I do.”

“Amazing,” Steve said and leaned in for another kiss.

Thankful to have Steve to support him, Bucky’s mind swirled with thoughts. _Moving in together_. They were moving in together! They were buying a house together! Bucky had been saving for about a year, intending to upgrade his apartment to something a little better but pushing off that chore again and again. It was absolutely perfect! But, _oh god_ , Bucky needed to check his credit score. Did he have cardboard boxes? Becca probably did after moving in with–

“I have one more question to ask you,” Steve said, interrupting their kiss and Bucky’s mental heart attack. 

Fearing that he was one more question away from having a _literal_ heart attack, Bucky humored him. “Okay.”

Again, sensing his concern, Steve helped alleviate some of that stress with a kind smile. “Will you dance with me?”

As if this date couldn’t have been more clearly a second chance at the prom, Bucky followed Steve to the dance floor, and the musicians seemingly took that hint as their cue to play louder. They landed on a final cadence before starting a new duet, something slow and sentimental, something that would be easy to sway to, holding each other close.

But unlike Bucky, unlike Clint, Steve actually knew how to dance – or, at least, how to fake it. Confidently, Steve raised a hand in the air off to the side for Bucky to take, and he rested the other on Bucky’s side. That left Bucky to rest his other hand naturally on Steve’s shoulder, allowing Steve to lead. Steve moved his feet first to demonstrate a basic step that was easy for Bucky to copy, and when Bucky grew comfortable with it, Steve added a turn. Slowly, carefully, they spun in circles, blurring the backgrounds around them until they were the only two who remained.

With each step, Bucky saw their lives together. Multiple lives, different scenarios and different histories, but in every one, they found each other. He saw darker timelines, plagued with war and pain, but he saw lighter ones too, full of eternal peace and never-ending joy. In Steve’s crystalline eyes, he saw their past reflected back, everything that they had experienced and survived. He saw their present in the moment, feeling it in the steady rhythmic pulse of the music. And he saw their future that they would build together for the rest of their lives, hand-in-hand.

As the song slowed to a natural, peaceful end, Bucky beamed at his boyfriend, unable to hold back the words that immediately flooded his mind, “I love you, Steve Rogers.”

Steve smiled back without hesitation, “I love you too, Bucky Barnes.”

Even after the musicians finished holding their final chord, they continued to hold each other close, rocking back and forth, as Bucky imagined them doing late at night, bare feet against cool hardwood, in the kitchen of their new house. Practically reading Bucky’s mind, Steve whispered against his temple, “I can’t wait to dance with you in our home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where do I even begin with this chapter? 
> 
> Actually, I'll just let you tell me your own thoughts 😉
> 
> Such a special moment, and I would be thrilled to hear your thoughts on their final date and their future plans. If you have the time, please feel free to drop a comment or share on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets 😊
> 
> 🎧"Flightless Bird, American Mouth" - Iron & Wine
> 
> (Yes, Twilight, I know 😅But this is, by far, my favorite song to imagine a slow dance to, and it's actually one of my go-to Stucky songs! I mean, childhood memories a bit tainted and ruined too soon by responsibility and social restrictions, followed by a struggle to cope with fame/notoriety? Idk, gives me images of pre-war and then post-serum Stucky 😂Anyway, it's a beautiful song, and I can only imagine what a stunning piano and harp duet of it would sound like)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...Anyone want to spend a day just envisioning domestic bliss?


	55. Chapter 55

**Episode 55**

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time that he had fallen asleep and woken up with a smile on his face, as if he had been smiling all night long.

He had actually been smiling ever since Steve asked him that incredible question. They shared a few more dances, truly taking advantage of the empty dance floor and private concert, and finished the bottle of champagne to celebrate.

Hand-in-hand, they returned to the villa to tell the others their good news (and brag about the most amazing meal of their lives). Of course, the others applauded and cheered, and Bucky spent the rest of the evening envisioning his dream home. New York property obviously wasn’t cheap, but he had a decent amount of money tucked away in the bank, earning a small-but-mighty percentage of interest. But the best part? _Combined incomes_. On their own, individually, they couldn’t afford a huge place, but together, they could, _uh_ …do alright.

Bucky pictured four bedrooms. A master with an ideally-attached bath, two spare bedrooms for their respective offices, and a guest bed for friends and family, because they would surely be visiting. A kitchen with marble countertops and upscale appliances that he would actually use now that he had a reason to come home for dinner. A cute, little family room – not a ton of room but just enough so that they could relax together on a comfy couch, watching TV and sharing their favorite sitcoms with each other or binging the latest Netflix hit. Where they could watch _their_ season of Love Island.

_Yeah_ , Bucky fell asleep with a smile on his face, picturing that home.

Bucky woke up to the lights turning on and looked up to see Steve already awake, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Morning, future roommate,” Bucky said, voice quieted by their blanket.

Steve chuckled. “Morning, gorgeous. You want something for breakfast?”

Grabbing his stomach, Bucky groaned. “Oh god, don’t even mention food.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can eat for an entire week,” Steve laughed. “I still need to shower, though. Wanna come with me?”

To their left, someone cleared their throat, and they both looked over to see Sam raising his eyebrows at them. “How about you two wait until you’re in that new house of yours before getting freaky in the shower? Again.”

Steve ducked his head, faintly blushing, before he gave Bucky another kiss on the forehead and rose from the bed.

Dressed and ready for whatever the day would throw at them, Bucky welcomed Steve onto the swinging bench, and Steve chuckled as soon as he sat down, rocking them harder. “What’s got you so happy?” Bucky asked with a beaming grin of his own.

“Just thinking about us,” Steve said in a much lighter tone than the night before. “Thinking about our house. Thinking about you coming home to me in the kitchen. Y’know, domestic bliss–"

“Oh, ‘domestic bliss,’ huh? You want to be my housewife or something?” Bucky teased.

“Hey, if you want me in a pretty, little apron tied with a bow in the back and nothin’ else, I’m game, babe.”

Bucky happily pictured that imagine but ultimately shook his head. “No, I want to know what you were thinking about before I interrupted you.”

Swiping a hand through his slightly-damp hair, Steve tilted his head to each side, as if shyly deciding whether or not to tell him before explaining himself. “I keep imagining you coming home from a long day at the office, throwing your jacket on the floor – like I ask you not to – and loosening your tie, before finding me in the kitchen, frantically stirring something on the stove to keep it from boiling over in a desperate attempt to impress you. You’ll wrap your arms around my waist and rest your head on my shoulder and tell me that it smells wonderful, even though I burned something, and no matter how many windows I open, the whole house smells like it.”

Bucky blinked. Obviously, he had shared some similar thoughts but nothing so _vivid_. He nodded, encouraging Steve to continue, sitting on the edge of his swinging seat in the hopes of hearing more about this daydream.

Thankfully, Steve had plenty more to say. “When we sit down to eat, you’ll tell me it tastes amazing, but we both know it’s deservedly mediocre at best. Or, the opposite happens. For me, maybe a shoot runs late, because of course it runs late, and I get home to find you making breakfast for dinner, because you know it’s my favorite _and_ you know exactly how I like my eggs and bacon. Or, maybe we’re both tired and order takeout. We’ll get our favorite pizza from our favorite place, or on a rare occasion, we spice things up with curry or sushi. Or, maybe we’ll subscribe to one of those weekly boxes that gives you all the ingredients pre-cut, so all we have to do is slap it in a pan or preheat the oven, and in an hour, we’ll be bragging to all our couple friends on social media about how great we are at cooking.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh; it was such a specific desire but so perfect, and Bucky could absolutely empathize.

“ _Or_ , fuck it, maybe we’ll be in the middle of cooking something together, and we keep brushing against each other. First, it’s an accident, and I bump into your hip, pushing you into the counter. You go to grab a dish from the cabinet and casually run your hand up my arm before reaching for it, bottom of your shirt riding up. Then, we’re constantly touching, nudging each other, until we get distracted and end up on top of the island, windows wide open, hopefully not starting a grease fire.”

Well, that surely was a…delightful image to add to his vision board of their future house.

And Steve _still_ wasn’t finished. “I know it’s stupid, but I can’t wait to share a kitchen with you. I can’t wait to have a silverware drawer with mismatched spoons and forks – half from your old apartment and half from mine. A rack full of eclectic pots and pans that we got as hand-me-downs from our Ma’s, but we each really only use one that’s our favorite. I want to know which burner is your go-to on the stove, because mine is bottom-right. I’m envisioning a knife block on the counter beside one of those ceramic jars where we keep the random spoons and whisks and shit. We have a cutting board with our names burned into it, which we really only use as decoration, because I got it for our anniversary one year. Act surprised when you open it.”

“Gladly,” Bucky agreed with a smirk.

“I want you to judge the way I load the dishwasher, because god knows you have an opinion on it, and I’m perfectly fine with that. I want us both to have weeks of leaving dishes in the sink and letting them pile up until we get to the point where we’re withholding sex until someone caves, giving each other passive-aggressive messages: I leave a sticky note on the bathroom mirror that you roll your eyes at before crumpling up and throwing in the trash, and you send me curt texts that piss me off at work. But as soon as I get home and see your little pout, I’ll be elbows-deep in Palmolive like it was yesterday.”

Steve sighed, cutting himself off and adding one more thing. “I’m sorry for rambling all this at you, but I sort of hate my kitchen now. As much as I want to, I never use it, because I’m always too busy to cook for myself. But if I’m cooking for someone else? I think I’ll enjoy it more, because it’s more important. Not that you’re dependent on me to feed you and not that I’m not important, but, like, you make me want to cook and learn to cook well if it makes you happy.”

“Well,” Bucky began to buy himself time to think of an adequate response. _Where to start?_ “I’m glad I’ve inspired your culinary endeavors.”

Steve’s face flushed red before he leaned down, burying it in the corner of his arm, saying muffled, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. You probably think I’m stupid–”

“Not at all.” Even though Steve couldn’t see him, Bucky shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips, as he sat closer and lightly squeezed Steve’s shoulder to encourage him to lift his head. “What’s your favorite dish to cook?”

“Lasagna,” Steve said sheepishly, almost timidly, refusing to move.

“Well,” Bucky tried again and stifled a laugh by briefly pressing his lips to his own hand. “I cannot wait to try the world’s most mediocre lasagna.”

Steve sniffled. “Will you make the salad?”

Bucky smiled even wider. “I will gladly make the salad.”

With that, Steve lifted his head, and Bucky kissed him on the cheek.

“Do you know what I’m talking about, though?” Steve asked, sitting back and propping his head on his hand, rocking them back into a steady rhythm. “Have you been thinking about those things at all?”

“Of course I have.” Bucky had very much been dreaming of those wonderful ideas. He didn’t know if he could express them as beautifully as Steve, but he could certainly try. “Do you know what room I’m most excited to share with you?”

Steve shook his head.

“The bathroom.”

“Oh?”

“Oh yeah,” Bucky said and poured out his heart. “I’m thinking about coming in right after you shower, and the room is still steamy with the mirror fogged and the smell of your body wash in the air. What is it? _Sandalwood and musk_. The first few months, I keep all my bottles on one side of the shower, and you keep yours on the other side until we end up using each other’s. Same with towels. At first, we each have a designated rack to hang our towels, and one morning, you accidentally grab mine. I tell you not to make a habit of it, but you keep doing it anyway until we end up just using the same one, which might be a little gross, but who cares?”

With a grin, Steve nodded, clearly listening and picturing that image.

“And, oh god, lazy Sunday mornings when we can sleep in and shower together? The best. And, while we’re crafting our dream home in The Sims, I’d like to request a freestanding tub, so at the end of a long day after the lovely mediocre lasagna, I can lie back in all the scented bath salts and oils and whatever. And when you piss me off, you can sit behind me and run your hands through my hair and read my favorite book to me out loud.”

“Sure,” Steve immediately agreed. “What’s your favorite book?”

Bucky paused to genuinely give that difficult question some thought. “Depends on the day, but my favorite books are always ones that no one has ever heard of before that sound really serious and philosophical but are actually filled with the most graphic, filthy erotica.”

Steve laughed. “Got it.”

“Ooh, and I bet our counter – double vanities, of course – will be covered with all the pomades and shit that we really only use to get ready for our date nights, because let’s be honest, the best we look is when we’re just waking up, looking like a total mess but absolutely perfect. But if you ever forget to mention how good my hair looks after spending like an hour curling it, you _will_ be receiving those curt texts from me.”

“Naturally,” Steve said, chuckling again.

“But think about all the cute things we get to do together! Like brushing our teeth? You probably know the exact timings for each side, and you’ll try to get me to floss, but no matter how hard you try, that’ll never happen. Sorry, sweetheart. But shaving together? Shaving _each other?_ Is there anything more intimate?”

Steve shook his head. “What else?”

“Well,” Bucky said and racked his brain without much effort to find another example of their future domestic life, “I know that you still want to travel to make your documentaries, so maybe you’re away for a week or two. During that time, _oh_ , you know I’ll be stealing your aftershave and cologne. Falling asleep in one of your oversized t-shirts so that I can smell you. And then when you get back home at some awful time, probably ridiculously early in the morning, you’ll try not to wake me, being quiet with your suitcase up the steps, but I’ll hear the sound of the water from the shower hitting the tile, and I’ll never be happier to feel your wet hair against the pillows. I’m wrapping my arms around you and refusing to let go for at least twelve hours. Apologies in advance to my clients, because I’ll be calling off that day.”

When Bucky was finished sharing, Steve simply stared at him for a few moments. His eyes sparkled, radiant as he imagined the endless possibilities, like the rippling waves of the pool, reflecting back the sunlight. Bucky wanted to dive into that water and float for eternity, swimming laps or, _hell_ , even doing synchronized swimming moves.

But before he could hop in, Riley interrupted them. “You two lovebirds are needed in the confessional,” he said, nodding toward the bungalow, and when they both shrugged, moving to stand, Riley added, “but one at a time. She wants to start with Bucky first.”

Looking back over his shoulder at Steve, Bucky shrugged.

Bucky felt slightly annoyed by the interruption, but it had admittedly been a few days since he had talked to America and America, so he really couldn’t complain. Plus, he had fantastic news to share. Continuing to smile, he stepped into the confessionals shack, and America grinned back at him. “Hi, Bucky.”

“How are you?” he asked, taking his assigned seat in front of the camera and getting hit with an intense bout of déjà vu.

“I’m fine, but I’m here to ask _you_ that, Bucky Barnes,” she said, always business.

This time, Bucky didn’t mind talking about himself and his situation. “I don’t think I could be any happier. In a few days, I’ll be going back home with my boyfriend, who is probably the love of my life. In a month, we’ll be purchasing our first house and moving in together. I could have never imagined a better outcome from this show.”

“Hm,” she mused, expression flat, almost unconvinced, as she scribbled onto her clipboard. “And you don’t have any worries about adjusting to regular life after the show?”

Slightly taken aback by her unenthusiastic attitude, in complete contrast to everyone else, Bucky paused before replying. “I mean, it’ll obviously be different with both of us getting back into our usual routines back home, and it’ll be a torturous month while he’s still in L.A. But, we’ll get through it.”

America gave a slow nod, as she listened, before dropping her pen with a sigh. She lifted her head and finally met his gaze, and Bucky could see that her usually-glittering, beautiful deep brown eyes appeared dull and listless. “If I’m being honest with you, I don’t think you’ll make it.”

Her words felt like a slap to the face, and Bucky’s eyebrows shot high onto his forehead.

Before he could interrupt, she continued to explain herself, “Once you get back into the real world, I can’t see you two lasting more than a few weeks. In here, it’s easy. You don’t have to make an effort to spend time with each other. But out there? When you both go back to your jobs and lives? You’re a self-proclaimed workaholic, and even if he’s not working here, Steve will immediately get absorbed in his work. Are you really willing to take time off for each other? Because I don’t think you can.”

_What the fuck?_

Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest, as a newly-found level of rage boiled in his blood that he had yet to feel before in the villa, and questions swarmed his mind like buzzing flies. _Where was this coming from? Had she always felt this way about them? Did other people feel this way about them? How fucking_ dare _they?_

“No,” Bucky started with, shaking his head to get his thoughts in order. Ignoring the camera and its glaring red light, he spoke directly to America, because the camera didn’t matter in this moment, not when he had his entire relationship and the man that he loved to defend. “Absolutely not. That could not be more inaccurate. Maybe we’ve both had an unhealthy attachment to our work in the past, but not anymore. We _love_ each other. We’re going to move in together, and we’re going to start a life together. There is not a single doubt in my mind that we can make it through any bullshit the universe wants to throw at us, because we’ve already been through it all. My family loves him, and even if they didn’t, I wouldn’t care, because he means that much to me. He means the _world_ to me, and there is not a damn thing that could possibly change that.”

At first, America sat completely still when he stopped talking. Then, slowly, a devilish grin broke across her face. “ _Now_ ,” she said in a much lighter tone than her previous, “would you have given me even a remotely-similar response if I started this off with, ‘Tell me about you and Steve’?”

_Ah_.

Bucky understood in a still-racing heartbeat that it had all been a production trick – and a dirty one, at that. Without hesitation, he had fallen into her trap, and she played him like a damn fiddle. Actually, she played him as easily as the pianist and harpist played their instruments the night prior. Bucky could only respect her for doing her job. “Steve taught you well.”

America scoffed. “Steve taught me shit. I taught myself. Now, go grab your husband for me.”

Walking back over to the swinging bench, where Steve sat between Sam and Riley who were attempting to swing as high as they possibly could, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh after experiencing such a whiplash of emotions. Steve cocked an eyebrow. “Everything alright?”

As Sam and Riley shot him knowing glances, perhaps alluding to the fact that America offered every Islander the same treatment, Bucky simply nodded and gave him no explanation. “Yup. Everything’s great.”

Bucky stole Steve’s seat after he rose to take his turn in the bungalow – but not before giving Bucky a quick peck on the lips. “Did she hit you with the ‘you won’t make it in the real world’ line, too?” Sam asked after Steve crossed over to the opposite side of the pool.

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky said with a bitter laugh.

“Your Stevie’s not gonna like that one bit,” Riley pointed, and Bucky nodded.

Surely enough, Steve exited the shack a few minutes later, face bright red and clearly still fuming. With his hands on his hips, he stood in front them and shook his head. “That kid’s an evil genius.”

Standing to give them a moment alone, Riley nodded and Sam clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he walked past. “Gen Z is gonna be the death of us, man.”

“I can’t believe she did that to me,” Steve said, sounding shocked as he flopped down beside Bucky, defeated. “Did she do the same to you?”

“She sure did.”

Steve shook his head again with a sigh. “See, that’s the type of shit I want to distance myself from. I never want to do that again, forcing people to second-guess themselves or their relationships.”

Immediately recognizing his stressed-verging-on-guilty-and-remorseful tone of voice, Bucky scooted closer on the swing and draped an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “And, now, you don’t have to do that ever again.”

“Yeah, thank god.” As Steve fixed his gaze on the wooden flooring, seeming distracted, Bucky repositioned himself so that he sat sideways on the cushions and brought his legs up onto Steve’s lap to make him smile. Steve did just that, turning his head to him with a sweet grin. “You know what I told her when she said we wouldn’t last?”

“What?”

“That I couldn’t care less what she – or anyone else, for that matter – thinks about us. All that matters is that I _know_ for a fact that we will make it and that I couldn’t be more excited to spend the rest of my life with you, because I love you.”

Bucky nuzzled his face into Steve’s shoulder. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too. And I told her the same exact thing.”

“And that’s why we have no worries about the future,” Steve said and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

Wrapping his other arm around Steve’s neck to hold him even closer, Bucky sighed and allowed his eyes to drift closed. “Tell me more about our house, Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, y'all, this is another one of my favorites 😅
> 
> This is another scene that I wrote very, very early in the process - something that came to me so strongly and vividly that it was just a constant flow state and it was ~magical~ 💖 Seriously though, this chapter to me is all about exploring what true love really looks like, because the grand, special moments are lovely but I think it's these little, mundane moments that really give you insight into a beautiful relationship. Oh, domestic bliss - I hope you loved this chapter as much as me 😊
> 
> As always, your thoughts and comments mean the world to me; being able to share this story with you all has been absolutely amazing, and I can't thank you enough for interacting with it in whatever capacity you choose. This story hit a huge milestone the other day, and I would love to address it in a very sappy, long post when I have the time to pour out my feelings, so if you're interested in reading it, head on over to my blog @ buckyandthejets on Tumblr where I'll be posting that (hopefully) soon 💕
> 
> Next time on Love Island..."Well, after the family visits and final dates, it was bound to happen eventually, right?"


	56. Chapter 56

**Episode 56**

“I got a text!”

Bucky pretended to not hear whoever shared that horrible news. Returning to the patio swing after dinner, they had shifted positions, so that Bucky could rest his head in Steve’s lap, while Steve ran his hands through his hair, carding his fingers through the strands at a steady rate. Bucky felt himself nearing the pearly gates of dreamland when that dreaded text tone sounded a few feet below them on the pool deck. As the others started to gather around Riley on his deck chair, ever the rule-follower Steve gave Bucky’s hair a final tug and sat forward, forcing Bucky to raise his head with a groan. “Can we just not do this tonight?”

“I mean, we don’t technically have to,” Steve said with a chuckle, “but not participating in a mandatory event would be grounds for termination.”

_Oh, no_ , Bucky thought. _Getting sent home where they could start their life together? What a tragedy._

Still, Bucky stood beside Riley, who sucked in a shaky breath through clenched teeth before reading the message: “Islanders, please prepare for the final elimination ceremony #Last-Call #Final-Four”

Well, after the family visits and final dates, it was bound to happen eventually, right?

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” Riley said when they reached their dressing room.

“Please,” Bucky replied, standing in front of his closet with his hands on his hips, as always lost amongst his own wardrobe, “you two have nothing to worry. The audience clearly loves you. You two were the first make it official _and_ the first to say ‘I love you.’ Even if you went home tonight, which would never happen, you two would be perfectly fine.”

Riley sighed, shaking his head. “But going home _is_ the thing I’m worried about. We haven’t exactly talked things through like you have with Steve. We don’t have a plan yet about moving in together. Obviously, we both want to, but neither of us want to give up our jobs either. We thought we would go home, keeping things long-distance and trying to visit as often as possible, but I don’t know if I want to do that anymore. I’m scared, Bucky.”

Recognizing the strained quality of his voice as tears were most definitely filling Riley’s eyes, Bucky tossed the shirt that he was holding onto his vanity and crossed over to Riley. “No, no, no,” he whispered, hugging him from the side, knowing the tactile comfort alone spoke magnitudes. “Don’t go down this road. Just breathe with me, okay? Nice and easy.”

Following Bucky’s example, Riley breathed in a ragged breath and raised his hands to his face to wipe at his eyes. “I want to move in with Sammie. Trust me, I really, _really_ do, but I’m so scared of coming home to an empty house. I can’t do that again, and I’m scared that when we get home and get back to work, I’ll completely shut down my personal life again. I’m downright terrified that we’ll fall apart and it’ll be all my fault.”

Bucky held him closer as Riley started to cry, rubbing circles into his upper back, just as he had done at Casa Amor. “It’s okay, Riley. It’s okay.”

Once his breathing evened out, Riley pulled away with an uneasy sigh. “I’m sorry I’m a mess,” he said with a sniffle.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky said with a lighthearted chuckle. “And you don’t have to be scared, either. We’re all scared – me and Steve, included. It’s normal to be worried about going back to the real world, but you have absolutely _nothing_ to worry about when it comes to Sam. He loves you, and you love him. It’s really that simple. You’re meant for each other, and I have no doubts whatsoever that you two will make it. You’ll spend a little time apart back home, still completely in love, and when you move in together, it’ll be perfectly fine. It’ll be better than fine! Maybe Sam will move up to Nashville or you’ll go down to D.C. or _both_! Or neither. You can move somewhere totally new and start your lives together totally fresh. You have so many options that no matter what you choose, it’ll be amazing.”

With another loud sniff, Riley finally lifted his head with a nod. “You really think so?”

“Of course, I do. You’re Riley and Sam. You two show me every day that true love is possible, and I couldn’t be any happier for you. I love you both, and I don’t want to see you cry and second-guess your relationship like this.”

“Aw,” Riley cooed, eyes crinkling at the corners, “you love me?”

Bucky paused, realizing that he hadn’t even noticed the word leave his mouth, but he certainly meant it. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do. I mean, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you reminding me that my feelings are valid and forcing me to talk to Steve all that time ago. You told me to believe in myself when I didn’t, so now that you’re in my place, I’m telling you to believe in yourself right now. Okay? You’re my best friend, and you don’t need to feel this way anymore.”

“Oh!” As Riley’s eyes widened, tears completely halted, Bucky realized, _again_ , what he had said a bit too late, and Riley laughed. “And how does Miss Natalia feel about that?”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, no, I don’t! I think you should tell me, best friend,” Riley said with a wink-wink-wink from a puffy-pink eye, suddenly oozing smugness.

Bucky nudged Riley toward his closet. “Drop it, pretty boy, and let me get dressed.”

Riley stood in place with his jaw dropped. “What? You don’t need my expert opinions anymore?”

“Nope. I’m done asking for your help.”

“Rude!” Riley said with a laugh, as they both selected their outfits for the night.

They laughed together when they turned around to see that they had both chosen floral prints. “Seriously?” Bucky asked, admiring Riley’s sunflower-patterned, flowy shirt with bell sleeves, tucked into his rhinestoned-denim overalls.

Riley appeared to admire Bucky’s outfit, eyes slowly following the curves of his legs, accentuated by tight, black skinny jeans, before resting on his black button-down with a red-rose print. “What?” Riley asked in return. “We landed in a field of sunflowers on our final date.”

Bucky’s eyebrows elevated on their own volition, recognizing that exact line of reasoning. “The table was decorated with roses on _our_ final date.”

“Then, it’s perfect!” Riley declared and pulled out his phone for their celebratory selfies that would be posted on a later date. (With his fancy, new Instagram account, maybe Bucky would even ‘heart’ those photos back home, because _that was the terminology, right?_ )

For the final time, Bucky and Riley strutted beside each other down the ivy-lined pathway, confident and prepared for the elimination ceremony. But as they rounded the corner, rather than leaving their respective boyfriends gobsmacked by their clothes, all four of them froze. They laughed at the sight of Steve and Sam in complementing Hawaiian shirts. Steve wore the blue one with white hibiscus flowers that Bucky remembered from his first recoupling ceremony when Steve chose him as his partner for the very first time, and Sam wore a red shirt with a smaller print of tiny, white orchids that could only be seen from about a foot away.

They laughed even _harder_ when Jane emerged from the bedroom, holding hands with Carol and Val – all three of them in fucking floral print. Jane wore a pretty, simple pink dress in a chiffon material that featured purple tulips. Red poppies contrasted their deep green background on Carol’s romper, and Val’s daisy-covered crop top reminded Bucky quite heavily of a shirt that he had hanging in his closet.

That left them waiting on Scott, Hope, and Thor to see if they completed the pattern, and when they turned around the bend in a solid color, stripes, and polka-dots, the other Islanders let out disappointed sighs and groans. “Damn,” Scott said with a chuckle, looking at the garden in front of them. “Sorry we missed the memo.”

After the ten of them were arranged in their typical positions around the flickering fire pit, Riley let out an ugly snort that only made Sam look at him in pure admiration. “We look like Easter fuckin’ morning. Where’s our baskets and candy?”

Unfortunately, instead of being given baskets with that plastic grass that would be tracked around the house for another month and chocolate bunnies beside jellybeans that would go stale the next day, the Islanders were given a retired-but-still-gorgeous supermodel. As if they had all somehow forgotten the implications of her entrance, every Islander cheered when they saw her multi-colored, multi-flower-printed gown, rustling in the manufactured wind.

Janet spun around for them in front of the fire pit with a laugh of her own. “I’ll tell you all a secret,” she said, addressing them out of turn without consulting her notecards. “I wasn’t planning to wear this dress tonight, but costumes told me over half of you were wearing floral prints and, well, I couldn’t _not_ join the fun.”

They all cheered for her again – the honorary Islander for the evening. Dernier, doing his job, put an end to the fun. “Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Van Dyne.”

Seemingly getting herself into character, Janet nodded and wiped the smile from her face. As the chill settled in over the Islanders, Bucky instinctively reached for Steve’s hand, while the other couples did the same with their own partners. _This was it._ The last moments as the final five couples, soon to be reduced to the final four. No matter what happened, Bucky would be content with the outcome, whether he would make it to the finale with Steve or go home to start their lives together in the real world. The sly smile that Steve gave him told Bucky that he felt the same way, confident and prepared for any outcome.

“Islanders,” Janet read from the first card, tone serious, “since the last time that we spoke, you’ve become parents. Our second couple has said ‘I love you’ to each other.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand, as Riley turned to them with a grin. “You’ve met each other’s families, and you’ve gone on your magical final dates.”

Janet flipped to her next notecard with an overdramatic sigh and an apologetic glance tossed at the Islanders. “During the last two eliminations, you all had the power to decide which couples among you stay and which couples go. You voted to save Jane and Thor, sending Bruce and Maria home, and you voted to eliminate Peggy and Angie. Tonight, however, you will have no power in the decision, as the people who will be deciding the final four couples will be the audience alone.”

The Islanders glanced at each other, nerves palpable and crackling like static electricity. This choice was completely out of their hands – nothing they could do to change it.

“It’s finally time to reveal in no particular order which couples have left the greatest impression on the audience, as worthy of receiving their spot in the finale in which they have the chance to walk away with fifty thousand dollars.”

Dragging out the drama and tension to an unprecedented length, Janet paused yet again, allowing the air to stir around them, hot and humid, almost oppressive. After they all anxiously shifted, readjusting their stances, clearing their throats, and squeezing their partner’s hands, Janet flipped to the next notecard. “The first couple who will be advancing to the finale is…” While she paused, Bucky held his breath, along with the other nine around him. “Riley and Sam.”

Of course, no one appeared shocked to hear their names, but Riley still gasped, mouth gaping open, as he appeared on the verge of tears again. But, this time, Sam stood by his side and turned to him with his arms opened wide. They held each other close with relieved sighs and took their seats, as the others applauded for them. Bucky smiled; _they deserved it_. And he knew that everyone else would agree.

After another pause, Janet continued, “The second couple who will be advancing to the finale is…Carol and Val.”

The two shared a gasp together, staring at each other in awe before pulling the other woman into a hug. Pressing their foreheads together, they brought their hands up to cradle each other’s faces in a beautiful, intimate moment. They breathed in the shock and realization that the country believed in their relationship as much as they did, and just like Riley and Sam, they certainly deserved their spot in the finale.

Janet moved on to her next notecard after the others applauded for Carol and Val as they took their seats. “The third couple who will advance to the finale is…”

At this point, Bucky, along with the others, realized that if their names weren’t called in Janet’s next three words, their couple would be vulnerable for elimination. While the others tensed, Bucky remained calm. Feeling Steve’s smile at his side, warmer than the fire blazing in front of them, Bucky knew that he had nothing to worry about if they were going home tonight. In fact, he would probably be excited. They would be returning home together to _build_ a home together and–

“Bucky and Steve.”

With a disbelieving chuckle, Bucky asked his brain to turn itself off and to simply enjoy the moment. Eyes wide, he wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, leaning into him and taking a deep breath of his new favorite cologne. Steve pressed his lips against Bucky’s cheek and squeezed him tight, as if he couldn’t believe the news either.

They were going to the finale.

Together.

For the chance of winning fifty thousand dollars.

(That would help to make one hell of a down payment.)

But they couldn’t celebrate yet, since Janet had some less happy news to share after Bucky and Steve took their seats on the bench. “Jane and Thor, Hope and Scott, one of your couples will advance to the finale, and the other couple will be sent home tonight.” She let that statement hang in the air, while the two remaining standing couples shifted their weight between their feet and exchanged nervous-yet-encouraging glances with their partners. “The public has been voting, and the couple who will be joining Riley and Sam, Carol and Val, and Bucky and Steve in the finale is…”

No matter who Janet said, this elimination would be tough. In the seventh week, they were all friends. They were practically a _family_ now. If either of these couples left the villa, their absence would be difficult to accept. They would miss party-animal, playboy Thor’s flirty comments, and they would miss Jane’s kind, heartfelt compliments at all hours of the day. They would miss Scott’s lighthearted spirit, and Hope’s playful jabs. Not only would the villa would be drastically different without either couple, both of them deserved to be in the finale. Even if they had yet to say it, all four of them had found love that was genuine and beautiful and would last in the outside world, regardless of Janet’s announcement.

“Jane and Thor.”

At first, the other Islanders reacted with silence, and Thor broke it with a relieved-but-pained sigh. Jane initiated their hug, reaching up to him on her tiptoes, straining even in her baby-pink heels. When they pulled apart from their embrace, Janet stated the obvious with a bit more emotion wavering in her voice than the Islanders were used to from her stone-cold, on-screen persona, “Unfortunately, Hope and Scott, this means that you are eliminated from the villa. You’ll both have a few minutes to pack and say goodbye to the other Islanders.”

Again, Janet broke the tradition of these rigid ceremonies and crossed the deck to approach her daughter. As they hugged, Hope’s voice could be heard through a muffled laugh, “It’s okay, Mom.”

“I know, sweetie,” Janet replied, “and I couldn’t be any more proud of you.”

As was tradition, all of the Islanders formed a group hug around Hope and Scott, squishing Janet in the middle. They laughed, and they cried. They shared apologies, and they shared congratulations. They made promises to see each other again shortly in the future, and they all applauded for Hope and Scott when they walked hand-in-hand up the three levels of deck-stairs, disappearing through the ivy-lined pathway.

The final four couples continued standing around the fire pit, and before they could disperse and get ready for bed, Janet stopped them in their places. She wiped away the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes before addressing her last card. “Congratulations, Islanders. You four couples were deemed the most worthy of being part of the Love Island Season 11 finale. With only two days left in the villa, tomorrow will be your final chance to make an impression with the audience and convince them to vote for you as the winning couple.”

_Two days?_ As that bomb dropped, shrapnel flying around the fire pit, Bucky looked around at the other couples, as they gasped and widened their eyes.

“Now,” Janet said, ever-so-calm, “get some rest. You’ll need it, since tomorrow is your special day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Four, y'all! 
> 
> How are we feeling? What are you thinking? Are you ready for the finale? (Because I'm not!! 😅)
> 
> Two days 'in canon' for our lovely Islanders, but I stretch it out, so that it's four for us. I still can't believe that's all we have left! As we bravely push forward to the finale, we still have some very special moments coming up, starting with a very ~special day~ tomorrow 😊 (Can you guess what it is??)
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you wonderful readers!! Thank you for leaving kudos and comments and sharing the story with friends; it means the absolute world to me! And feel free to come hang with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets 
> 
> Next time on Love Island...💒💍💌


	57. Chapter 57

**Episode 57**

When he woke up the next morning, Bucky realized that their _special day_ was off to an odd start.

A noticeably _unsettling_ start.

Bucky opened his eyes to the feeling that he was much colder than normal, and when he looked over his shoulder, he immediately noticed that Steve had left their bed. In the beginning, Bucky wouldn’t have felt too worried, knowing that Steve liked to get in an early-morning workout, but in more recent weeks, Steve appeared to savor every moment of keeping Bucky pressed against his body, fitting in his workout later in the day and preferably at a time when Bucky could ogle from afar. Plus, Bucky knew that there was a very real possibility that Steve was simply in the kitchenette, preparing their morning coffee.

When he lifted his head to glance around the room, however, Bucky felt nerves settle into the pit of his stomach at the sight of the other three beds half-empty. Only Riley, Val, and Jane remained in the room.

Hearing Bucky move, Riley looked over with an amused grin, propping his head up with one hand. “Ain’t this a pickle?”

“Please tell me they aren’t at Casa Amor,” Bucky groaned. With two days left together, the last thing they needed was to be separated and introduced to new people – again.

Thankfully, Riley shook his head. “They’re just keeping us separated until later this afternoon when we have our weddings.”

“Oh.”

 _Oh, right; their weddings._ Of course, how could Bucky forget?

Clearly reading the puzzled expression on Bucky’s face, Riley laughed. “We’re not really getting married, obviously, and they technically don’t advertise the episode as a wedding, but everyone knows it’s what they’re going for.”

“Yeah,” Val agreed on the other side of Bucky, stretching her arms out in front of her. “Not exactly subtle with the imagery.”

“So, what happens?” Bucky asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“This morning, they’ll wheel in racks of pretty dresses and suits in all our sizes to pick from, and then, the four of us will have brunch together, sipping mimosas and having, like, crepes or somethin’ fancy,” Riley explained, leaning forward and looking absolutely thrilled. “We’ll spend the rest of the afternoon apart from our partners, writing speeches that we give later, while reflecting on the whole experience together, yada yada yada, and my Sammie, your Stevie, Carol and Thor are doing the same thing off-site. When the sun starts to set, we’ll all come back together for super dramatic introductions, greeting each other at the top of the deck stairs, dressed up again like the prom. We have dinner with all four of us together, and afterward, they move us over by the pool where they set up a gorgeous archway, covered in white roses and fairy lights, and one couple at a time, we read our lovely speeches to our partners.”

“They’re essentially wedding vows,” Jane added, and the others nodded.

“Well,” Bucky said, processing that information in the same way that he listened to the daily texts that explained the challenges that he still didn’t really understand. With a shrug, he sat up in bed. “Let’s do it.”

Bucky joined the other three in breezing through their morning routines, buzzing with excitement at the promise of new clothes and brunch. As Riley stated, racks of formal wear had been rolled into the hallway upstairs between the dressing rooms. Jane and Val gravitated toward the hanging dresses – many were white or off-white, cream or blush or baby-blue, and covered in tulle and lace. Bucky happily mulled over the various suits, cut in sleek and crisp styles that would have fit right at home in his everyday wardrobe. Humming to himself and letting out mildly-amused noises to feign interest, Riley flipped through the suits with him, and Bucky noticed his eyes wandering over to the dresses more often. With a chuckle, Bucky shook his head. “You can go check out the dresses without me.”

Riley’s eyes lit up, as if Bucky had told a lucky child _yes, we can go to the candy store_ , before giving Bucky a smirk. “You don’t wanna look for yourself?”

Pausing on an all-black ensemble that caught his eye as soon as he had walked over, Bucky shook his head again. “I’ll save the pretty dresses and lingerie for the honeymoon.”

(Now, lingerie _under_ the suit may have been a different question…)

Riley squealed and lightly slapped his arm before crossing over to the other rack, where Val and Jane welcomed him instantly. Bucky returned his attention to the black suit where his hand still rested, and he looked it over with a satisfied grin. Even before taking in its detail, Bucky felt a profound sense of _this is the one_ , and the details simply reinforced that gut instinct. The jacket appeared immaculately tailored with sharp lines and angles; Bucky assumed he that could slice a finger on the lapels. The pants followed suit but almost looked like they would fit snugly, clinging to his thighs just the right amount. On closer inspection, Bucky realized that the dress shirt featured a black, paisley motif that could only be seen at a close distance and under certain lighting. A black silk tie perfectly completed the ensemble.

As if by magic (or perhaps by a producer who took his measurements from his response on the applications), Bucky read the label to find that, of course, every piece was his size. Although the brighter, flashier colors of orange and teal called for his attention, Bucky knew that no other suit on the rack could compete. In his mind, he heard an echo that repeated, _this is the one._

While Jane, Val, and Riley held up different dresses to each other, deep in conversation about whether to go with lace or satin, Bucky snuck away to his designated dressing room to try on his perfect suit.

Bucky smiled shyly at himself in the mirror once every article was in place. The suit was beautiful on the hanger, but on him, it frankly looked even better. As much as he loved the bold red of his velvet jacket or the other fun patterns that he had worn throughout the course of the show, those clothes all felt a bit fantastical, almost out of his element. But there was something about the stark black tone that made Bucky feel different. He felt more at peace, more at home, more _real_. This suit felt like something that he could wear in the real world, and well, he could picture himself wearing it to their _real_ wedding.

And that thought didn’t terrify him in the slightest.

Even though he adored the effect of the all-black ensemble, Bucky reserved a slight pop of color for the bottoms of his shoes, as the patent leather LB’s cried out to him from their box, tucked safely away in his closet. Lastly, he did something that he had yet to do all season for a formal-wear night. Taking a hair tie from his vanity, he pulled back his hair, leaving just a couple strands loose in the front to frame his face. Steve obviously loved his hair down, easily accessible to bury his hands, but Bucky knew that Steve would enjoy clearly seeing his face, as well. It seemed like the right thing to do for a special occasion, and what was more special than their (fake) wedding?

Bucky rejoined the others who were still in the hallway, and Jane noticed his presence first, greeting him with an encouraging smile. When Jane paused, Val and Riley also paused and followed her line of sight with a gasp. “Bucky!” Riley screamed, covering his heart with his hands.

Turning on his heel, Bucky spun in a circle with his hands in the air to show off the full outfit.

Riley squealed again, clapping his hands too excitedly to truly make a coherent sound. “Oh my stars! Bucky, you look amazing!”

Val and Jane agreed with vigorous nods, and Bucky felt his face flush the same pink shade of the dress on the end of their clothing rack.

Content in his suit, Bucky watched the other three try on a few different dresses before settling on their perfect matches. Val selected a lilac ball gown with lace appliques attached around the bottom, and Jane chose a simple form-fitting, white dress made of chiffon that dropped to the floor from thin straps on her shoulders with the bottom dip-dyed an ombré pink. (Bucky learned some new terms to report back to Becca.)

With the three of them settled into their outfits, they waited for Riley to return with the one that he promised would be _the_ one. As soon as he exited the dressing room, Bucky immediately cheered with Val and Jane, knowing that there was no other outfit that could be so perfect for Riley. Paying homage to the many, many ones that he had worn throughout the season, Riley wore a gleaming white bridal jumpsuit with a lace overskirt – (Bucky was still learning) – that acted as a train. It was the ideal blend of his retro style with modern interpretation and androgynous overtones, as the lace alluded back to his prom dress. It was perfect; it was _Riley_.

Val laughed when Riley stopped at Bucky’s side, pointing between them. “Looks like _you two_ are getting married!”

They glanced at each other, realizing that they most definitely resembled a stereotypical-yet-not-in-any-way-traditional cake topper, and chuckled. Riley slung his arm around Bucky’s neck and playfully gave him a shove in the process. “Whataya say, hot stuff? Wanna ditch our boyfriends and elope in Vegas?”

“Only if I can be the flower girl!” Jane interjected, perhaps surprising them by speaking up, and they all laughed.

Monty Falsworth politely interrupted their camaraderie, pleased to see that they had all chosen outfits that he hoped they would pick, and instructed them to get changed into their normal clothes to head back downstairs for brunch and speech-writing.

Bucky’s worries about writing a speech for Steve melted away like the melting butter on his Belgian waffles, soaking up his anxiety with fluffy batter and delectable syrup. The four exchanged lighthearted conversation over mimosas, chatting about what they hoped their partners had chosen for their own outfits. In all honesty, Bucky knew that he would be floored by anything Steve had chosen to wear, even if he had broken the rules and walked out in a t-shirt and shorts, and his comment earned a few giggles from the others.

But after Bucky had practically licked his plate clean of syrup, Monty (apparently in charge of the day’s events) returned with four notepads and pens. “You ready?” Riley asked, but Bucky knew that he had no other option than ‘yes.’

Bucky followed Riley to a daybed, while Val and Jane sat on the one beside them. Clearly having already given this some thought, the other three put their heads down and got to work, ink flying onto the paper. Meanwhile, Bucky stared down at a blank page. He obviously had an abundance of feelings for Steve, countless thoughts and memories to pour out, but he also wanted this speech to be absolutely perfect. Because Steve deserved it. Steve deserved to know exactly how much Bucky appreciated him, cherished him, _loved_ him.

(And also because writing a good speech was precisely Steve’s forte, and the competitive side of Bucky’s brain refused to let his boyfriend outshine him – too much.)

Watching Riley flip to a second page before he had even started his _first_ , Bucky sighed. Legal writing suddenly seemed so easy compared to this assignment. So much of contracts consisted of hitting Ctrl C followed by Ctrl V and then filling in the blanks, like a far less fun game of Mad Libs with names of the recently deceased instead of naughty words. After years of practice, it was something that Bucky could do while half-asleep, and on some mornings, he did just that.

But _this?_ This required a bit more effort. It required him to recall every moment that they had shared together over the past two months, tracing the timeline of their relationship back to its origin. Bucky remembered the strain in his chest from internalizing every sigh that he wished to make after landing in the airport with Nat at his side. A complimentary shuttle picked them up and taxied them to the villa, where Bucky felt immediately out of place and horrified. He remembered being told to change into swim trunks, to slather up with tanning oil to make his muscles pop on camera, and to wait around being barked at with even more orders. When he was instructed to go to the confessional bungalow to shoot his introduction, Bucky hoped to find refuge, and in a roundabout way, he did. Little – actually _miniscule_ – to his knowledge, Bucky met the love of his life.

Channeling those memories, Bucky put the tip of his pen to the first page and relived those emotions.

He thought of how easily it had been to talk to Steve, to laugh with him, to tease him, and to steal his coffee. He remembered how excited he was to have their morning conversations, away from the chaos of the villa, and he remembered the exact moment that he realized that Steve caught his interest in more than one way. He also remembered the sinking feeling in his chest when he thought that he had sabotaged his career in admitting those feelings to Nat, only to be surprised in the best possible way, finding Steve waiting for him at a dinner table – no longer a producer but a _contestant_.

He thought of the darker times too. The confusion and anger of Nat’s elimination that he allowed to boil to the surface, lashing out in a poor attempt to rationalize them. The hurt and pain of being refused his apology, because Steve had been escorted away to a date with the woman of his dreams. The pure idiocy of denying his feelings and forcing Steve to spend time with Peggy when deep down, they only wanted to spend time with each other.

But out of those dark times came the light. Steve spilling the truth in a heartfelt speech, choosing Bucky, and even after yet another week apart, their relationship only grew strong. It grew exclusive with shiny, new labels, first declared on the beach, and they spent the remainder of the time falling in love. They explored each other intimately and passionately, learning each other’s bodies as deeply as their own. They worked as a team throughout every dumb, ridiculous challenge, and at the end of each day, they fell asleep at each other’s sides. They met each other’s families and made plans for the future, putting every fear and doubt behind them, making the end goal: _love_.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky dropped his pen onto the mattress. He shook out his wrist, hand cramping, after burning through maybe four or five pages. Without much thought, he simply poured out his feelings, letting the pen flow without any regard to syntax or grammar or proper spelling. He could fix the details later. He could always change the formatting and layout, but first, he needed the raw, unedited emotion.

 _That_ was what Steve deserved.

Riley lifted an eyebrow with a playful half-smile. “Everything okay?”

Looking down at his work, Bucky nodded. “I think so.”

Riley didn’t need to hear his response before reaching over to give his hand a squeeze, looking pleased for him and almost proud. “No matter what you wrote, it’ll be absolutely beautiful.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

The four still at the main villa spent the rest of the afternoon tweaking their speeches, making minor adjustments, and just as Riley explained, as soon as the blue sky turned the faintest shade of golden, Monty instructed them to go to their dressing rooms and get changed while dinner was prepared. Bucky happily exchanged his basic tank top for the gorgeous suit, and he helped Riley zip the back of his perfect jumpsuit. They posed for selfies in their mirrors, trying out quite a few different angles and poses before they were told to meet Jane and Val in the bedroom, who were dressed up and dolled up with makeup to match their gorgeous dresses.

Before Bucky could even compliment the others on their attire, Monty gave him the honor of going first. “The other four will be waiting at the bottom of the stairs. When you get down there, say hi to Steve and then take your seats around the fire pit.”

Bucky nodded and a took a quick breath to steady himself before opening the French doors. This was the moment that he never got to enjoy at the prom, enviously watching Peggy greet Steve in his stunning suit, but now, Bucky was given another chance to appreciate Steve in what would most likely be an equally-stunning suit.

When he rounded the corner of the ivy-lined pathway, his eyes naturally spotted the four standing in a line next to the fire pit at the bottom of the first flight of stairs. He took in their outfits while descending the wooden steps. First, like the other three beside her, Carol had also chosen a suit in a shiny, metallic-looking silver fabric that would complement Val’s purple gown wonderfully. Unlike the other three however, she showed off quite a bit of skin by forfeiting a shirt – a delightful twist on the traditional look.

Beside her stood Thor, who also chose a look that was quite unique but would also pair nicely with Jane’s dress. Finally getting his taste of floral print that he had missed the night before, Thor’s white jacket featured a repeated motif of pink roses with light-green leaves for contrast over black pants, a black dress shirt, and a matching pink bowtie. Bucky smiled at the image of such a large, muscular man embracing pink flowers.

Sam stood third in line, and as Bucky expected, he looked positively radiant in a navy-blue tuxedo with sleek black lapels, a classic white shirt, and a black bowtie. Of course, his greatest accessory glowed as his incredible smile, which he aimed at Bucky before turning to Steve on his left.

 _Steve_.

As Bucky could have expected, Steve had chosen a blue suit, but it was a much lighter shade of blue than his usual. This blue was a baby blue, robin’s egg blue, and would appear tacky if it were in a different style on a different man. But, no, this blue – whether Steve knew it or not – was the color of his _eyes_. And he wore a tie that matched it, as well.

Bucky stifled the naturally-rising giggle that bubbled in his throat as he hurriedly closed the distance between them, reaching out to immediately pull him into a tight embrace. When they pulled apart, they both held onto each other’s arms, as if to ensure that the other man was real, gazing at each other and assessing every small detail. After spending the afternoon revisiting his earlier memories, Bucky noticed how much Steve’s hair had grown, swept back with just the tiniest amount of product. ( _The pomades on their shared bathroom counter that they only used on date nights_.)

Steve lightly took hold of his lapels, thankfully not cutting his thumb on the sharp lines, and Bucky beamed up at him. “You look unbelievable, Buck.”

“You’re not half-bad, yourself,” Bucky said, allowing instinct to take over, while his brain short-circuited at the sight of Steve in this exquisite color.

Shaking his head, Steve let out a gentle chuckle and lifted one hand to cradle Bucky’s face, thumb resting carefully on his cheek. “This suit was made for you, my love. I hope it comes home with us.”

“Well, of course,” Bucky agreed, heart swelling from how easily _home with us_ rolled off of Steve’s tongue, but he still had the capacity to joke, as well. “Something else to add to the scrapbook.”

Steve pulled him in for a kiss, and Bucky leaned in to meet him halfway.

They separated and rejoined each other around the fire pit. Although, the fire pit had actually been replaced with a circular table, covered in a white table cloth with eight place settings. Holding hands beneath the table, they watched the other couples reunite, gleefully astonished by their partner’s outfits. Jane beamed at Thor, whose jaw dropped as soon as he saw her in her white/pink, wedding-esque gown. Carol opened her arms for Val to run into, holding her with seemingly no intention of ever letting go. They all waited in anticipation for Riley, who held his head high as he descended the stairs with practiced ease in a pair of white heels, sending the lace train floating behind him, truly as if he floated down from heaven.

“Angel,” Sam said breathlessly, putting the obvious title to the imagery.

Riley giggled, and as they all looked forward to seeing, Sam swept Riley off of his feet with practiced ease and spun themselves in circles, while crying out happily into the red-orange sky, and the others applauded.

With all eight of them in place around the table, dinner was served. Bucky’s eyes widened at the sight of beautifully-prepared steak in a well-seasoned marinade, full of fresh herbs, alongside hearty mashed potatoes and asparagus covered in hollandaise. Everything paired perfectly with the deep, full-bodied red wine that they toasted each other with – naturally, to “finding love.”

Often gesturing with their forks and knives, they retold favorite stories from the villa. They spoke of shared nerves during the very first coupling ceremony before anyone truly knew each other, forced to base their decision on first impressions. They laughed about the pie-throwing game, and Bucky could faintly still smell the whipped cream lingering in his nose. Bucky, Steve, Riley, and Sam groaned when someone brought up Casa Amor, but the other half of the table shrugged, as it was a very integral part of their relationships. Steve nearly planted his face into his plate when someone mentioned the drink-throwing game, viscerally recalling his lapse of judgment, and Bucky snorted into his wine glass, face burning, when someone else said that the heartrate challenge would forever be burned into their memory.

After their plates had been cleaned, comfortably full and just buzzed enough to combat the nerves of what would come next, while still in complete control of their motor functions, Monty led them over to the area of turf beside the pool where the ‘weddings’ would take place, where they had all been taking peeks at throughout dinner. Instead of beanbag chairs, four smaller, circular tables had been assembled with two chairs per table, and all of them faced an arch that had been decorated with a flowing, white fabric, roses, and twinkling white lights.

Bucky joined Steve at their assigned table, while the others took their seats.

“Jane and Thor,” Monty said, nodding toward the arch, “how about you show us how it’s done?”

They nodded and stood in front of the arch, facing each other at the ‘altar.’ Suddenly seeming nervous, perhaps the only time that they had seen him like that, Thor fumbled with the slightly-crumpled, folded pieces of paper that he pulled from his pocket. He cleared his throat, while Jane stared up at him, purely enraptured by her partner.

Thor ran a hand through his hair one last time before starting to read from his first page, “When I was younger, my father told me that when I met the love of my life I would know immediately. He told me when he met my mother, it was a feeling that he had never experienced before. As soon as she walked into the room, he said that it felt like a punch to the face, a kick in the teeth, knocking the air from his lungs and throwing him to the ground. It was like nothing else mattered in the world, like the universe centered around her and her alone. I never understood what he was talking about, but then I met you, Jane.”

Looking up through wide eyes, Jane smiled, and Bucky held his breath, while Steve laid his hand on Bucky’s thigh. “When I decided to join the show, I didn’t expect to find love,” Thor continued. “I didn’t think I was worthy of finding love. I spent my whole life waiting to find the one, waiting to find what my dad felt, and when I never found it, I assumed that I never would. I thought I’d be happy going through life, hopping from one casual relationship to the next. For a while, it was fun. I had a lot of fun with a lot of different people – I had a lot of fun with people here – but it never felt like how you make me feel.

“I was excited to meet the other Islanders from Casa Amor, but I never expected to be knocked flat on my ass when you walked in. From one look, I knew that you would be special to me. I knew you were the _one_ for me, and I had no idea how to approach you,” Thor said through a chuckle. “I knew that I needed to impress you, and you deserved the absolute best. When I finally worked up the courage to introduce myself, you didn’t really seem to care.”

Jane let out a shocked laugh but nodded her head, seeming to remember that moment.

“But I stuck with it. I refused to let this feeling go and I probably annoyed the shit out of you for the few days, but I don’t think it could have worked out any better for us. I’ve never cared for anyone else in my entire life. You taught me to love the good things about myself, and you made me realize that I deserve to feel loved. I can’t wait to head back home with you, but before we do that, I want to promise you that I’m ready to commit myself to you for the rest of my life. You mean the world to me, Jane, and I want to return home with you as my girlfriend.”

The other Islanders gasped and watched Jane beam at Thor. Without hesitation, she offered her response: “Of course.”

They all applauded for their first kiss as an official couple, cheering and whooping, as Thor did for their own couples.

When they pulled apart, Jane giggled as she reached for her own pages. She took a breath before reading out loud, “Thor, when I first met you, I’ll be honest and say that I wasn’t interested. Like all the other Islanders from Casa Amor, we had been watching the whole season, learning about all of you. I knew that you were the ‘playboy’ of the season, and I knew that you weren’t looking for a long-term relationship. Considering that’s the only thing that I wanted from this experience, I avoided you like the plague.”

Thor laughed, eyes gleaming at her, sparkling like the lights that surrounded them, and Jane switched to her next page. “But then I met you. What you’re really like. In our private conversations, I learned that you have such a big heart. You care about the world and the environment, and you are more deserving of love than you will ever imagine. I realized that my first impressions of you were completely wrong. I fell for you immediately, and that sort of scared me. I didn’t want to come into the villa as ‘the other woman,’ and I’m so thankful that everyone welcomed me in with open arms. It’s been a joy continuing to fall for you for the rest of the summer, and I couldn’t be happier that I took this risk.”

Moving to her last page, Jane shook her head with a disbelieving huff of a laugh. “And, then, this was the part where I would have asked you to be my boyfriend.”

The other Islanders let out a chorus of _aw_ ’s to fill the silence, as Thor raised a hand to cup her face, and Jane stood on her tiptoes (even in her pretty, pink heels) to meet him for another kiss.

After setting the tone of the ‘vows’ perfectly, Jane and Thor took their seats, hand-in-hand, and Carol and Val took their places in front the arch. Noses wrinkling, they giggled at each other, seeming to realize the intense implications of standing before each other in this context.

When they were ready, Val started. “Dr. Carol Danvers, you sexy rockstar physical therapist.” Carol chuckled again, and Val continued, reading from her notes. “As soon as I walked into the villa for that first coupling, you caught my eye. I loved your blonde hair and your smile and your sense of humor, and when I got to know you, I loved your caring heart, your brilliant mind, and the way that you snort sometimes when you laugh too hard. As much as I could picture a future with you from the very beginning, for some reason, I was so scared of committing to that. Maybe a week or so into the process, I thought it would be too early to call you my girlfriend, or maybe I thought that you deserved better. I let you go, and that turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

Carol comfortingly squeezed the one hand that they remained clasped, as Val sighed and turned the page over. “I thought it would be fun to explore a relationship with someone else on the Island, because that’s what we’re all here for, but it was the opposite of fun. It was miserable, and watching you get to know someone else too was like a living nightmare.”

Bucky shot Steve a glance, _Sound familiar?_ Steve apparently shared the same thought, giving him a gentle nudge in response, and they returned their attention to Val.

“But then one of my biggest mistakes turned out to be one of my biggest gifts. We came back from Casa Amor, both alone, and it was the perfect opportunity to revisit what we had before. We still knew everything about each other, winning the Newly-Partnered Game, and the night that we spent in the Hideaway together will forever be a memory that I cherish. Asking you to be my girlfriend was without a doubt the biggest highlight of this entire process, and my only regret was not doing it sooner. Still, I guess everything worked out for us in the end. I can’t wait to go home together, and when you move in with me, let’s pop open a growler of pale ale, because champagne isn’t our thing, jump on the bed, and scream Nine Inch Nails at each other until three in the morning.”

Grinning wide, Carol nodded in agreement, and Bucky couldn’t help but borrow her expression. Every detail of Val’s speech was absolutely perfect, personal and intimate with shared experiences and inside jokes.

“Here’s hoping I can top that,” Carol said through a lighthearted sigh when she pulled out her folded speech from her suit.

“You can when we get home, dear,” Val was quick to reply, making Carol and the others laugh.

Shaking her head, joy bleeding through her smile, Carol read out loud, “Val, I must be the luckiest woman in the world to have met you. I truly can’t think of any other circumstance that we would have met, and I couldn’t be more grateful that it was here on Love Island. This experience has given us so many incredible opportunities, like winning a tennis match against a gold medalist and then watching her run through a garden of gorgeous flowers, crying out at the top of her lungs, because she saw a harmless bee.”

Val rolled her eyes but still chuckled, eagerly listening.

“We certainly went through our fair share of tough times, but we got through and came out on the other side just that much stronger. I wish I listened to the voice in the back of my head that told me to never accept the recoupling that separated us. I wish I broke the rules and refused to play along, so that we could have stayed together. But in the end, it turned out to be okay, because for all of those nights that I laid awake, terrified at the thought of you falling in love with someone else, apparently you were scared of the same thing.”

While Val nodded, Bucky gave Steve a nudge back in a delayed response.

“But I’m done being scared of those things,” Carol said confidently, no longer using her notes, tossing her papers to the side, so that she could hold both of Val’s hands. “I love you, Val. I’ve always loved you, and I can’t wait to take on the future together. I can’t wait to move in with you, to one day marry you, and to one day tell our grandkids about how Grammie Val ran screaming from a little, fuzzy bee.”

From the startled, almost overwhelmed look in Val’s eyes, the tears slowly dripping down her face, Bucky could tell that it was the first time that either of them had exchanged those three words, but Val leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a surging kiss. “I love you, too! I love you, too!”

They alternated kisses and laughter and tears, while the other Islanders quietly applauded for them. While they took their seats, they wiped away lipstick marks and mascara tracks, but still smiled, regardless of the mess.

Giving Bucky a few more minutes to attempt to relax, taming his nerves in his head, Riley and Sam were given the green light to exchange their speeches next.

Before Sam started to talk, simply reaching into his jacket to pull out his notes, Riley clutched his hands over his chest with a pout, as if on the verge of tears, himself. Sam chuckled. “Oh, angel, we haven’t even started yet.”

Riley nodded and sniffled in an attempt to compose himself.

When he appeared ready by holding Sam’s free hand, Sam glanced at his papers one last time before foregoing them, like Carol. “Riley Jones. Like the rest of us, I had seen and heard your name a million times on social media. I knew you were gorgeous, but my god, you stole my breath away the moment that you walked into the villa and you still haven’t given it back.”

Blushing, Riley tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You took a look at all of us in line, and for some reason that’s still a mystery to me, you chose to couple up with me first. I can’t even tell you how much that meant to me. I mean, you picked me over _Thor_ , for crying out loud,” Sam said, exasperated, and the others laughed. “I guess ‘cause he wasn’t technically an option, but still, you picked me. And from that moment, you stole my heart too.”

Sam took Riley’s remaining hand to keep it from fidgeting, holding both hands in front of them. “Riley, I don’t know if you believe in love at first sight, but I think that’s exactly what happened here. From that first conversation where all we talked about was our jobs and favorite 70’s rock bands, I knew that I could spend the rest of my life with you. I wanted to talk to you for all of eternity, learning every weird quirk about you. I want to talk nerdy shit, romantic shit, real-life shit; let’s talk about podcasts and making love and savings accounts.

“We’ve been together for about two months, and we’ve _only_ been with each other for two months. I can’t believe we’ve been so fortunate to do that, but it’s been the most amazing thing in the world for our relationship. Not to brag in front of everyone else, but we were the first to kiss, the first to spend a night in the Hideaway, the first to make it official, and the first to say, ‘I love you.’ Watching that relationship progress has been unbelievable, but every step of the way has felt completely natural, like we were always meant to do this. I feel like I was born to meet you, born to fall in love with you.”

Riley brought their clasped hands up to his face, brushing under his eyes as best as they possibly could while still holding each other. “I love everything about you, Riley. I love your beautiful hair, your beautiful eyes, your smile, your freckles, your arms and legs. I love your shrieking laugh, especially when it sounds like a birdcall. I love your fearless sense of style and your clear point of view. I love the way you snore when you’re particularly tired. I love you. That’s it. Plain and simple. _I love you_. And I will never, ever stop loving you. That’s one promise that we can both take to our graves and one to include in our vows when we finally do get married. I love you, Riley Jones, and I never want you to forget that.”

By that point, Riley cried freely, and Bucky could feel tears start to form in his own eyes. Just as Sam embraced Riley, holding him close with a smile, Steve shooed away Bucky’s tears with a sweet expression, squeezing his hand on top of the table.

“Goddammit,” Riley said with a self-deprecating chuckle, fanning himself quickly with his crumpled pages. “You should’ve let me go first!”

Sam laughed with him, swiping his thumbs across Riley’s cheeks. “We’ll have to remember that for next time.”

Riley sucked in a cleansing breath to settle himself and shook out his arms to clear the nervous jitters. “My birdie,” he started off with, reading from the paper, “I’m not sure where I’d be without you. I know that’s unoriginal, but truly, I don’t think I would have made it anywhere _close_ to this with anyone else. From that very, very first moment that I saw y’all beside the pool, I knew I needed to get you know first. It was something in the way that you smiled, the way that you drew me in with your eyes, that infectious kindness that just flows out of you constantly, like a sexy, sweetheart erupting volcano. Before you ask, I’m not sure what that means, either.”

Grinning, Sam showed off the smile that Riley loved so much, and Bucky watched Riley swoon before continuing, lowering his tone, dropping it to something more serious. “I wasn’t entirely sure what I would get through this. I went through a really, really rough breakup. I can’t even call it a breakup; I was _dumped_. I was kicked to the curb, like garbage not even worthy of being tossed into the can.” A hint of darkness flashed in Sam’s eyes, anger, but Riley soothed it when he flipped to the next page. “When I got the offer to join the show, I wasn’t sure what I would possibly get out of this. At the very least, I was hoping for a friend, and hey, I definitely found that with you. Mr. Samuel Thomas Wilson. I met a friend, a partner, a soulmate, and a _damn good_ lover.”

Sam’s grin took a naughtier edge when he ducked his head. “I met the love of my life, and I was scared of opening myself up to you, scared of getting hurt again. But you helped me feel safe and protected every step of the way. You helped me feel loved and worthy and deserving of that love. I was so, so, so terrified of losing you at Casa Amor, because I had never met anyone who cares about me the way that you do. I just broke down and couldn’t function. But, then, when we came back and I saw you alone, you told me that you loved me, and as emotional as that night was, I think it might be my favorite moment from the entire show.”

“I’ll admit that I’m a little scared now, thinking about the future for us,” Riley said after clearing his throat and flipping to his last page, but as I look at you right now, I know that I have nothing to worry. I know that we can make it through anything, because we have the strongest promise that we could ever make to each other: _love_. Wherever we go, I have no doubt that we’ll be perfectly fine, because we’re going there together. I love you now, and I’ll love you forever, Sammie.”

This time, Riley took the lead of wiping away Sam’s tears, pressing their foreheads together and simply breathing each other in and out, exchanging breathless _I love you_ ’s. With Riley’s white jumpsuit and Sam’s stunning tux and those _vows_ , the image easily could have been their real wedding, and Bucky started the applause when they kissed.

With him and Steve as the only two left to stand at the altar, Bucky no longer felt nervous about delivering his speech; he was _ready_.

But Steve was given the ‘okay’ to go first. The competitive side of Bucky’s brain swore, knowing that he would be a tough act to follow, but the rest of Bucky’s brain told him to relax and enjoy whatever beautiful, phenomenal words that Steve had prepared for him.

“Okay,” Steve said, looking down at his notes before meeting his eyes again, clear and confident. “I’m gonna tell you some things that you don’t want to hear.”

Certainly interested, Bucky quirked an eyebrow and nodded for him to continue.

“I say that only because I know you’re _supposedly_ not a sap like me, but deep down, I think you might appreciate hearing this.” With a smile, Bucky rolled his eyes, nodding for a second time, encouraging Steve to launch himself into the speech. “From the moment I saw you, from the very first headshot in your application, truthfully, I felt a connection between us. Maybe that’s a little strong, but when I turned to your page, I had this immediate reaction that told me that I needed to get you on the show. I needed to get to know you. Not the you that you presented on your applications with the too-perfect answers, obviously aiming for the ‘correct’ response, but the real living, breathing you.

“When you got here and we had our first conversation in the bungalow, I was greeted with just that. I met _you_ , and somehow through everything that you said about not wanting to be here and that the concept of the show disgusted you and that true love doesn’t exist, it all just made me want to get to know you more. And I knew that I could never get to know you the way that I really wanted to with me still as a producer. As the weeks went on, every moment I spent with you solidified that gut-reaction from the very beginning.”

Bucky smiled, amazed at the thought that Steve felt attached to him simply by seeing his picture. He would have been skeptical in any other context, but he wholeheartedly believed Steve. With one hand, Steve reached out, and Bucky offered his own, which Steve happily accepted, as he continued. “Even when we were apart, it only made me realize how much I cared about you. When I was with Peggy, all I could think about was how much I was hurting you, and when you were away, all I could do was miss you. I spent every single night wishing that you were there beside me, just to tell you ‘good night’ or run my hand down your back when you had trouble falling asleep. Hell, I even dreamed about you falling asleep on my bicep and waking up to drool covering my arm, but I didn’t care. I just wanted you back. When I finally had the chance to share my true feelings and learn that you felt the same, it was one of the greatest feelings in the world. Having you back in my arms.

“Then, you were taken from me again for Casa Amor. It was another torturous few days, but we survived it. And when I saw the briefest glimpse of you coming back single from Casa Amor, I’d never felt so much relief in my life. It felt like everything was right in my life again, like the sun had finally broken through the dark clouds. Because somehow, all of the missteps in our relationship managed to lead me back to you. Like I would step off the path, but it would simply put me on a slightly windier one that would always lead back to you.”

Nodding, Bucky couldn’t agree more, but Steve still wasn’t finished. “I can’t live without you, Bucky. How cliché is that? _I can’t live without you_. How many times have you heard that in how many shitty romantic movies? But now I get it. I’ve spent almost every day falling asleep beside you, waking up beside you, dreaming of you, breathing you as if you were oxygen, allowing you into my bloodstream. You flow inside of me. You fuel my heart. You _are_ my heart, Buck. I’m made of you, because I love you. I spend every second of my days thinking about you. I’m not sure I can properly function without you, knowing that you’re okay and that you’re loved.

“I can promise you that as long as you’re mine, you always will be. I promise to love you, to cherish you, to care for you for the rest of my days. I know those are real wedding vows, but they’re exactly how I feel about you at this exact moment. I’m ready to make those promises with you as long as you’re ready to make them with me. I love you, I love you, I love you. And I hope you’ll let me love you for as long as we’re both still breathing. ‘Til the end of time. Actually, I think I finally figured it out: ‘Til the end of the line.”

 _Jesus Christ_.

How the hell was Bucky supposed to respond to that? Perhaps too surprised to cry, Bucky raised his free hand to his face to find that his skin was dry. He shook his head at first, unable to believe the words that Steve said, but then, switching directions, he nodded, because _of course_ , he could believe them. They were the promises that he would soon read out loud, as well.

“I love you too,” Bucky said, his only response before turning his attention to the pages he had torn out of the notepad. Steve squeezed his hand in reassurance, and Bucky read out the introduction to his speech. “I didn’t come here to find true love. I didn’t come here to meet a new friend. I didn’t come here to meet anyone. I came here to support my best friend and leave. Then, I met you, Steve Rogers, and you changed everything.”

Steve smiled, eyes crinkling, and it was the perfect encouragement Bucky needed to continue confidently. “One of the first days that we knew each other, you asked me if I believed in love at first sight. I said no. Reflecting back on how far our relationship has grown, I’m not sure I’m totally convinced yet, but I do believe in meeting someone and instantly knowing that they’ll be important in your life. Because that’s exactly what I felt with you.

“I never envisioned that we would go on dates and be coupled up for weeks. I never would have guessed that we would be separated by so many twists of fate, and through it all, it would reveal to me how much you genuinely mean to me, how much you _matter_ to me. I never imagined that you would be my boyfriend and we would fall in love. I never even thought that you’d think of me as attractive and want to kiss me. But here we are. We had champagne on our first date in front of a wall of candles, and we slow-danced on our most recent date in front of a pianist and harpist, holding each other close and never letting go. You asked me to be your boyfriend beside the ocean, picturing a lifetime together, and you told me you loved me in a late-night confession, running your finger along my back. And after all that, I guess it’s clear that you must think that I’m not too bad-looking and may actually be a decent kisser.”

Giving his hand another quick squeeze, Steve chuckled and contentedly listened to the rest of Bucky’s speech. “So, after this experience with you, I’m not sure I believe in love at first sight, but I definitely believe in _true_ love. Because, in your own words, you’re it for me, babe. I don’t ever want to do this again with anyone else. You’re the only one I could ever imagine spending the rest of my life with, and I can’t wait to do precisely that when we get back home and build our _own_ home.”

Suddenly, Bucky felt an itchy sensation that he had felt too many times throughout this journey return to his throat, prickling at his eyes, and he forced himself to push through to the end. “I feel like you’re the person that I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet. Like every single decision I made has led to this moment. I met Nat when we were children so that in twenty years, she could convince me to join this stupid show. I took an interest in elder law and started drinking coffee with copious amounts of cream and sugar, so that you could make fun of me for it. I never settled down, so that I could find you and get to know you and fall in love with you. I feel like you give my life a meaning that it never had before, and I hope I can feel that for the rest of my life. I _want_ to feel that for the rest of my life, and I want to help you feel the same way. I love you, Steve Rogers, and I always, always will. I can’t wait to start my life with you outside of this villa.”

Bucky sobbed, leaning forward into Steve’s arms, already there to support him. He shoved the papers back into his pocket and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, burying his face onto his shoulder and mentally apologizing to the maker of this beautiful, probably-expensive suit for covering it in his tears. But it was okay, because Steve cried onto his shoulder too. They cried and cried and held onto each other and cried some more. Once the tears slowed enough, Bucky lifted his head to meet Steve with a kiss, and when they pulled apart, Bucky finally remembered that there were other people present, hearing their applause.

Immediately hit with an overwhelming, tremendous warmth that coursed through his entire body, Bucky knew deep in his heart that this wouldn’t be the first time that they exchanged such powerful promises in front of their friends in front of an altar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! What a chapter! Such a special moment for all of them! (Fake) weddings!! 💒
> 
> For some reason, this is the episode that the show considers to be the 'prom' and the real prom is just called a 'dance' (??) But with sappy speeches in front of an arch, I'm calling that a wedding 😅
> 
> I hope you LOVED this extra long chapter! With eight full weeks down, so terribly close to the end, I didn't want to deprive you a single moment from this amazing part. Every couple deserved their own, full, gorgeous speech, and I hope you agree! 😊
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter or the experience as a whole; your comments are very much appreciated, and I can't thank you enough! I can't even begin to put my feelings into words when it comes to thinking about how grateful I am that each and every one of you took a chance on this story ❤️
> 
> My Tumblr is buckyandthejets, if you ever want to chat about these two amazing boys in this universe or any 😉
> 
> Next time on Love Island...“So, tomorrow we film the finale?”


	58. Chapter 58

**Episode 58**

“So, tomorrow we film the finale?” Bucky asked, long after the archway and tables had been disassembled, resetting the deck for the next day, and long after they had changed into t-shirts and shorts. Too restless to sleep, he joined Steve in a stroll around the villa.

Steve nodded. “Technically, it’s broadcasted live in front of a live audience, and they have until the start of the episode to vote for their favorite couple. The production team brings in a hundred or so lucky fans to fill in the seats around the villa.”

“Wow,” Bucky said on instinct, struggling to picture how that many people would possibly fit on the deck.

“Oh yeah,” Steve agreed with a chuckle. “It’s even weirder than you’re imagining. Then, Janet leads us through the whole process. She starts by announcing the couple in fourth with the least votes and sits them down for an interview, where everyone watches a highlight reel of their relationship at the villa. Afterward, they do the same for third place. For announcing second and first, they do the process in reverse. Janet sits them down one at a time, and they watch their video together and chat. Once both couples talk to Janet, they line them up and reveal the winner. They’re offered the fifty thousand, and then – yeah, that’s the season.”

Bucky nodded along with Steve’s explanation, and by the end of it, the only response that came to mind was, again, “Wow.”

Stopping at the end of the deck, opposite of the house, where they could overlook the valley and the stars that lit up the night sky, Steve chuckled again. “ _Wow_ is right. I can’t believe we’re already at this point.”

“It’s exciting, though,” Bucky said, leaning onto the railing. “I mean, we have a one-in-four chance of winning fifty _thousand_ dollars. Have you thought of how you’d want to spend the money if we won?”

Steve rested his back against the railing beside Bucky so that he could face him with a shrug. “I was thinking we could each keep five to do whatever with, just for fun, and then the remaining forty could be used for the house.”

“That’s what I was thinking too. I thought we could use the prize money for part of the down payment and then come up with our own cash to invest into renovations – or vice versa. That way if for some reason things don’t work out between us and we have to sell the house, we can at least turn a profit.”

For a few seconds, Steve only stared at him before breaking out into a laugh, shaking his head. “Ever my optimist, Buck.”

“I’m sorry! I’m just trying to say–”

“I know what you’re trying to say, Bucky. You don’t have to apologize. It’s a good idea, and we should do that even if we don’t win tomorrow.”

“You think so?” Bucky asked, just to be sure.

Steve grinned and leaned into him. “Of course, I do. No matter what happens in the end, we’ll build a beautiful home together for as long as we can.”

In enthusiastic agreement, Bucky pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you,” he said when they pulled apart.

“I love you too,” Steve said, pulling him forward for another kiss.

After separating, staring out at the gorgeous night sky in their final opportunity to appreciate the stars before returning to their cities, Steve tilted his head. “Can I show you something?”

“Sure?”

Steve grabbed his hand and led him past the pool, up the three sets of stairs, and past the kitchenette. When they reached the doors to the bedroom, Steve looked back at him with a wink, raising a finger to his lips. Bucky followed him through the bedroom and living room, and when they made it to the foyer, Steve reached for the main door. Raising an eyebrow, wondering if they were running away, Bucky asked in a whisper, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Outside, Steve pulled him over the driveway, guiding him to a door on the side of the house that was clearly labeled: _STAFF ONLY_.

“Steve?” Bucky asked when he stepped through the threshold. “Are we allowed in here?”

“Not at all,” Steve said casually, closing the door behind them. “But what are they gonna do? Kick us off the show?”

“Pretty sure I should be asking _you_ that.”

Bucky looked around the room, baffled, eyes adjusting to the lights when Steve flipped them on. He recognized the one metallic wall as a garage door, meaning that they were in a room that Bucky had certainly never been in all summer. On one half of the room, tables had been arranged, holding unfamiliar equipment with millions of buttons and sliders, facing a wall of TV monitors. Each monitor displayed a different room of the house or angle of the back deck, and the video feed showed footage in real-time, indicated by the seconds ticking away in the corner of each screen.

Instinctively, Bucky took a step forward, gazing upward, in awe of the monitors. Steve stood by his side, and Bucky searched the TV’s for the other Islanders, who he found asleep in the bedroom. They also displayed the empty foyer and living room downstairs and the empty bathroom and dressing rooms upstairs. They watched the mosquitos buzz past the cameras outside, showing the kitchenette, fire pit, pool, and all the seating areas from a variety of perspectives. “Freaky,” Bucky whispered under his breath.

Steve nodded. “Welcome to the control room.”

Alone in the room together, Bucky assumed that the producers had left for the evening, but he could picture them all gathered around the screens, pointing out shots to either zoom in on or to adjust the angle. Bucky shook off the chill that rose over his body at the thought of someone spending the summer watching his every move. Obviously, he knew that it was happening, an off-putting thought that he pushed to the back of his mind, but _seeing the proof_ was a bit unsettling.

Bucky turned his attention to his left. A large whiteboard featured headshots of every Islander from the season with the remaining eight lined up across the top, organized by their four couples – hearts drawn around them in pink marker. Beneath them were the Islanders who were eliminated, notated with slightly-disturbing red X’s crossed over their faces: Brock, Nat, Clint, Wanda, Maria, Bruce, Peggy, Angie, and most recently, Scott and Hope. Stepping forward, Bucky saw that bullet points were handwritten underneath each Islander’s picture. “Bitchy, Serious, Boring Job,” Bucky read out loud from his own notes, and he laughed.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, while Bucky read his: “Hopeless Romantic, Idiot, EX-Producer.”

But what was written underneath both of their headshots piqued Bucky’s attention, as he said with a quirked eyebrow, “Fan Favorites?”

With a smirk, Steve shrugged. “Are you surprised?”

Bucky pursed his lips. “Ma said something about me being on magazine covers.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Steve said. “All the tabloids post huge spreads about the popular couples, looking for the next social media starlet that they’ll bombard with paparazzi when they get home. Actually, they’ll probably follow all the couples from the finale.”

“Seriously?”

“You’re a celebrity, Buck. Millions of people have been watching you every single day for the entire summer. They know your name and your face and your favorite things. You have fans now, and they’ll want to follow you, know what you’re doing, and listen to everything you have to say. They’ll expect you to keep up with social media and make certain statements.”

Bucky stared at him, mouth dropping open. He knew this was a possibility, knowing how many people watched the show, but – _he didn’t ask for this_. He didn’t want this! He wanted to return home to his normal routine, making the necessary adjustments to fit Steve into his life, balancing work and their relationship. He remembered Riley talking about how he struggled to cope with the fame from his show, struggling to meet those expectations placed on him by his new fans. He didn’t want to be swarmed by paparazzi every time that he stepped out for coffee. He didn’t want to be someone’s idol or hero. He didn’t even want to maintain a damn social media–

“But I’ll be with you every step of the way, Bucky,” Steve said, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. “I’ll help you in every way that I can. I’ll be there to remind you every single day that you don’t have to listen to all their demands. They’ll speculate about our relationship and they’ll pick us apart, but you never have to worry about that. We know in our hearts the truth of our connection, and that’s all that matters. I promise to be there for you no matter what. Even if something weren’t to work out between us, I will always be there for you. Whenever you need help dealing with this, you can always tell me, and I’ll be there. I love you, Bucky, and I will love you forever.”

“Steve,” Bucky said, breathless, hands reaching up to hold Steve’s face between his palms. “I don’t know what to say.”

Bringing up his own hands to rest on top of Bucky’s, Steve gave him a gentle smile. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Bucky nodded but leaned forward anyway, whispering, “I love you too,” before pressing their mouths together.

They spent a few more minutes examining the board together. “Badass Ballerina, Also Bitchy, Confident Queen” had been written under Nat, and Bucky wished that he could have taken a picture to show her. Bucky smirked at Riley being labeled, “Southern Belle, Hippie, Secret Geek,” with “Villain?” and an arrow pointing to Bucky’s headshot having been crossed out. He couldn’t help but notice another arrow pointing toward the heart drawn around him and Steve, labeled, “Gabe’s pick!” The only other arrow like that pointed to Carol and Val beside them, marked in different handwriting, “Monty’s pick!”

“Where’s _your_ pick, Super Producer?” Bucky asked, and Steve rolled his eyes, gently shoving him.

Before Steve could turn them away, Bucky noticed another list on the bottom corner of the board. Their names had been arranged into four separate columns: “Fuck,” “Money,” “Fame,” and “Love.”

“Holy shit,” Bucky said. “You were telling the truth about having us categorized.”

Steve nodded, standing slightly on edge, as if he was ashamed of this part of his job. “Of course, I did. Why would I make that up?”

Bucky didn’t mind, though, interested in seeing how the producers interpreted their first impressions. Unsurprisingly, only two names were listed under the “Fuck” column: Brock and Thor. Under the “Money” column were Carol, Maria, Bruce, Wanda, and Scott. The “Fame” column had the most Islanders: Riley, Peggy, Hope, Angie, Nat, Clint, and Val. That left only four names under “Love”: Bucky, Sam, Jane, and Steve.

“Huh,” Bucky mused. “We both got what we wanted.”

Glancing over at him, Steve grinned. “We sure did, Buck.”

Steve took Bucky’s hand again and led him to the other side of the room where six desks had been assembled into three rows. They stopped in front of one that was noticeably free from the expected office supplies and file folders; instead, the top of the desk was covered in gift bags, overflowing with tissue paper, and cards, addressed fondly to _Steve_.

“Your desk?” Bucky stated the obvious.

Steve nodded, shaking his head at the overwhelming gifts, presumably from his coworkers. Reading one of the cards, he chuckled and set it back down. “I just wanted to show you where I work – where I _used_ to work. This is where I used to sit, and well, sort of just,” he paused, suddenly shy, and rubbed the back of his neck again. “This is where I thought about _you_. At first, it was me trying to figure out how to get you and Nat together, but after our first couple of conversations, going over my notes, I realized how much I liked you. And not as a ‘character’ on the show that I found interesting, but as _you_. As someone _I_ would want to get to know. This is where I knew that I had to join the show, just for you.”

_Wow_. Back to one-word reactions, Bucky had no idea how to respond. That was so beautiful, so romantic, so wonderful. So Steve. _What could Bucky possibly say as an adequate, deserving response?_

Bucky looked behind Steve to where they could easily brush aside the presents. “Wanna make out on your desk?”

Laughing, Steve took a step forward, lowering his gaze. “I was actually going to recommend we make out somewhere else.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

“I’m assuming we’re not allowed to be in here either?” Bucky asked, as Steve propped open the confessional bungalow’s door with his hip, reminding him of mornings in what felt like another life.

Steve closed the door after they both stepped inside and noticeably switched the lock. “Technically, the contestants are always welcome to stop by and vent to the camera whenever they need to, but there’s no camera here the night before the finale.”

Bucky nodded, noticing the obvious bulky tripod missing from the center of the room, but he also noticed in the control room that there were still four cameras mounted in the corners – _and_ Steve was reaching up to turn off their red lights and angle them toward the floor. Taking his seat in the wicker chair in front of the palm tree backdrop, Bucky grinned and waited for Steve to join him in his old chair. After all of the cameras were pointed at the ground, Steve sat before him, crossing his legs and triggering a lifetime of memories. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” Bucky repeated before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “It doesn’t feel real to be back here with you.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, toying with the product that still remained. “Back where it all began.”

“Where I tried so desperately to quit the show and you wouldn't let me. Interesting that you never told me that I could walk off, like Clint or Wanda,” Bucky teased.

Sighing, Steve rolled his eyes. “Are you really complaining about me not letting you leave the show? After everything? My boyfriend?”

Bucky lightly kicked a leg forward to nudge Steve’s ankle. “You know I’m kidding.”

“I know,” Steve said, “but seriously, there’s people who want to quit on day one every single year. It was part of my job description to convince them to stay, but after everything I did to get you on the show, with you being part of my winning couple, there was no way _in hell_ that I was letting you walk. And, yeah, maybe there was part of my brain that wanted to keep you for my own. If the control room was where I realized how important you could be, I think this was where I started to fall in love with you.”

Eyes threatening to swell with tears, Bucky couldn’t help but smile. _Steve and his goddamn speeches_. But Bucky also remembered the other reason why Steve brought him here, aside from taking a walk down memory lane. “Do you ever regret not making a move on me in the first week?”

“I practically did!” Steve laughed. “Christ, one of the first things out of my mouth to you was joking about us having sex as a way to get you kicked off the show.”

“Ever wish that we did?” Bucky asked with a smirk.

Steve tilted his head to the side, quirking an eyebrow. “Let’s see – you would have been sent home immediately, and I would have lost my job. We probably never would have talked to each other again.”

Bucky shrugged. “Still could’ve been fun.”

“Could still be fun,” Steve said and tilted his head to the other side. “If we play pretend.”

Catching on, Bucky gave a slow couple of nods.

“Mr. Barnes,” Steve started with, dropping his voice and leaning back in his chair, “I heard you were interested in leaving the show early.”

Bucky leaned into his character by pouting and lowering his lashes, trying to remember what he said two months prior. “I figured if there’s a loophole to get me out early, you would know it, Mr. Producer.”

Pretending to ponder his response, Steve stroked his jaw. “Well, I can think of a few options, as long as you’re willing to break the rules.”

“Oh, I’m willing to do _anything_ , sir,” Bucky purred, running a hand up his own thigh.

Steve tipped his head back, simple and powerful. “Then, c’mere, gorgeous.”

Bucky smiled and rose from his chair. While Steve remained seated, Bucky cupped his face between his hands and pulled him in for a kiss. Steve happily complied, humming against his mouth and grabbing his waist to pull him down onto his lap. Bucky didn’t fully trust the folding chair to not collapse beneath them, but he straddled Steve’s hips anyway, settling down onto his thighs with a content grin.

Pace nearly frantic, they kissed and kissed, taking advantage of their last night alone, their last night _together_. Breaking character for a moment, Bucky broke away to catch his breath. Chest heaving, he pressed his thumb lightly against Steve’s swollen bottom lip, marveling at its pretty pink color. “I love you,” Bucky said, unable to keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “No matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens when we get home, and no matter what happens when we move in together, I will love you then too.”

At first, Steve stared at up him, as if adjusting to the change in mood, but he melted into Bucky’s embrace, holding him even closer. “Me too, Buck,” Steve said through a sigh. “I love you too."

They spent the rest of their stolen time together in the confessional shack reassuring each other, exchanging hushed promises in between heated kisses, so by the time that they returned to the bedroom, Bucky felt more than ready for whatever could possibly happen at the finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An EXTRA behind-the-scenes (definitely-not-allowed) tour! 😅
> 
> From the very beginning, I have always enjoyed how willing Steve is to share these 'secret' details of the show with Bucky, and it was delightful for this moment to truly come full-circle with that concept in mind. 
> 
> Originally, in my first plans and outlines, this chapter was going to be the third and final truly explicit scene from the story. It made sense for them to take advantage of this final night together to share another intimate moment before spending a month apart before moving in together. But when I sat down to write this part that way, getting to that moment, it simply didn't feel right. That might sound weird, but I'm sure my writer friends out there will understand 😅 My heart wasn't in it, but what this chapter ended up being, what you just read above, is something I'm really proud of. I think them exchanging these secrets and promises is just as important and beautiful as it would have been if they shared something more physical. 
> 
> (Who knows, maybe if these two were to ever return to the villa, able to sneak into the confessionals shack again, I'll explore that scene. Feel free to let me know if that sounds interesting to you 😉)
> 
> We officially have two chapters left, friends! It breaks my heart to say goodbye to this part of the story, but I couldn't be any more excited to share the finale with you all! Feel free to let me know all of your thoughts and feelings in the comments and hang out with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets 😊
> 
> Next time on Love Island...Anyone want to take a trip down memory lane?


	59. Chapter 59

**Episode 59**

On his last day on the Island, Bucky woke up before the lights flashed on in the bedroom, as he did on his first day on the Island. But very much _unlike_ that first morning, Bucky woke up in the arms of the love of his life.

He sighed, settling back against Steve’s chest, listening to his steady inhales, feeling his rhythmic exhales against the back of his neck. Bucky felt so _warm_. So comfortable, so cozy, so safe, so cared for. They were the greatest feelings in the world to wake up to, making him want to savor the moment for as long as it could possibly last. Especially when he knew that this would be the last time that he would wake up like this for a month.

_A month_.

Thirty days of agony. In that span of time, they obviously had a lot of details left to figure out, starting with Concern A of ‘did they actually, really, seriously want to do this?’, but assuming the answer to that question would remain unchanged, skipping down to Concern W, Steve needed to book his flight when they returned home. As soon as he received that date, Bucky planned to write it in his calendar, set multiple alarms and timers that he would happily watch the seconds count down, and eagerly wait for the day – the one and only day that he would ever be excited to pick someone up from JFK.

But once he survived the trip, everything would be fantastic! Steve would move in with him while they house-hunted, cramming his belongings into Bucky’s tiny apartment and a storage unit and possibly very generous family members’ homes, but they would get through it together, as they always did. Soon and _very_ soon, they would own a house together, building a home together, and Bucky would wake up in his favorite arms again and again and again.

But, for now, Bucky surprised himself and slipped out from under Steve’s embrace. He spared a glance over his shoulder and memorized the way that Steve’s eyelashes curled against his cheekbones.

Stepping out onto the deck, passing the kitchenette, Bucky couldn’t help but be reminded of the first time that he walked down these three flights of stairs. He remembered the nerves in the pit of his stomach – not the kind that he felt when around Steve, but a twisting, sour nervousness that made him almost feel sick. He could still see the five Islanders who greeted him alongside the pool, spotting Nat first before focusing his attention on a gorgeous man with an unbelievably friendly smile, his first partner for all of five minutes.

He looked across the pool at the confessional shack where he avoided his _second_ official partner, slowly and shockingly falling for the man with the clipboard beside the camera. (Recalling how they spent the night before making it their own, christening it, his smile took on an extra edge.)

His eyes traced along the semicircle of the fire pit, remembering the shock of receiving the text that informed him that Steve was waiting outside the villa for their first date and remembering the shock of seeing Nat eliminated from her favorite show. The shock that clouded his judgement and brought him to say such ugly, terrible things to the one person that he never, ever wanted to hurt. No matter how many times he wished to clear his mind of that memory, he knew that he would never forget the pain in Steve’s eyes when he mocked _what they had_.

(What they had turned out to be a lifelong love that changed Bucky’s world in every best way.)

Still, he couldn’t shake the feelings of sadness and loneliness and regret that returned when he passed the deck chair where he watched Peggy walk into the villa, stealing Steve away, because Bucky fucking asked her to. He thought of the days that he spent alone on that chair, but in reality, he was never truly alone. He had Clint by his side, staying optimistic in pursuing his feelings for Nat, Riley there to force him to acknowledge his own feelings, and Steve waiting all along for when he was ready to admit those feelings out loud.

When he finally caught up to that moment in his memories, glancing at the fire pit no longer conjured such horrible images. He felt Steve’s hands rubbing circles into his back as he sobbed after that recoupling, comforting him when the emotions poured out, just as Bucky comforted him alone in the living room at night. He also remembered how fast his feet carried him after rounding the corner, coming back from Casa Amor and immediately sprinting into Steve’s arms. The start of their rest of their time in the villa together – the start of the rest of their _lives_ together.

With a smile, Bucky crossed over to the other side of the pool, a lovely walk through his entire stay at the villa, and looked up a level to the middle deck where they ‘wasted’ so many days on their favorite daybed. Each day, they promised to move to a different one, one in the shade, but they simply could never part from the emotions engrained in the cotton sheets – even if Steve silently winced when they lied down on their real bed at the end of the day, hissing through his teeth at the sunburn that he refused to admit tinted his skin. But that was the daybed where Steve trusted Bucky enough to share the story of his tattoo and the names of his coworkers and the July constellations and the way that he would say those three mystical words. In place of a couch in the living room, maybe they could get a daybed, instead.

_Yeah_ , that was a nice idea.

As he finished his stroll around the perimeter, Bucky thought of the places that he couldn’t see around the main deck of the villa. The clearing where he had his first date with Steve and the beach where they had their second. The Hideaway where they could finally connect intimately on their own terms. The control room where Bucky only visited once but held such power, as Steve showed him the entire truth behind the operation and the life that he was moving on from to build a new future together.

Bucky stared out into the rolling hills, green valleys illuminated by early-morning sunlight, and realized that he would miss this. He would miss this ridiculous environment, this overdramatic production, this stressful-yet-wonderful experience. He would miss building memories, isolated from the rest of the world, where he and Steve could focus on themselves without the worries of daily life. He would miss the new _friends_ that they developed. The challenges that brought out their embarrassing secrets or allowed them to throw whipped cream and colored water at each other. All the times that they spent laughing around their shared dinner or taking selfies in their dressing rooms or exchanging group hugs after eliminations. Bucky realized that the short trip that he dreaded, intending to only stay a few days, turned into his entire summer. It was a journey that he would never forget and one that he actually hated to leave behind.

At least he had the memories.

(And footage.)

But the memories were better. Sweeter. More emotional.

Turning back to the house, ready to climb back into bed with Steve and enjoy their final morning together, maybe with a couple mugs of coffee, Bucky realized that he wasn’t the only one awake and outside – one of those friends that he would miss dearly.

“You reminiscing too?” Bucky asked, sitting across from Sam around the fire pit.

Only one corner of Sam’s mouth quirked upward, a shameful fabrication of his usual grin. “Something like that.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the tension in Sam’s shoulders and the way that his gaze shifted around the area, often focused on the ground. “You alright?”

Sam nodded with an unconvincing, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re not having second thoughts about Riley, are you?” Bucky couldn’t help but accuse. “Because if you are, I’m pretty sure I’m required to kill you.”

Shaking his head, Sam chuckled. “Not at all. Just thinking about – the future, I guess,” he explained through a sigh.

“The future’s scary,” Bucky said, having experienced that fear plenty of times over the recent days.

“Terrifying,” Sam agreed.

“But you have nothing to worry about. You and Riley were absolutely made for each other, and there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be perfectly fine back home.”

Sam kept his eyes trained on the fire pit, looking over the charred wood, piles of burnt ash from two months of occasional burnings. “Thanks, Bucky. It means a lot to hear you say that. I still just – I don’t know,” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “There’s something I need to ask him, and I guess I’m just scared of the response.”

Before Bucky could even ask, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

Bucky silently gasped, while Sam nodded with a chuckle. “I know it’s a huge step and I’m not sure yet if I’m going to ask _the_ question or consider it more as a symbol for the future, but I need to make this promise to him. I don’t want him going back home without knowing exactly how I feel about him. I want to give him this ring, so that he can look at it whenever we’re apart, no matter where we are, and know that I am one-hundred-percent committed to him. There is no one in the entire world that can change my mind. I’m ready to spend the rest of our lives together, and yeah, I think I’m ready to marry him too. A least, whenever he’s ready.”

_Wow_ , Bucky thought, holding a hand pressed against his chest, feeling his own beating heart pounding against his sternum. _Wow, wow, wow_.

After struggling to think of a more complex response, he simply spoke the words that came from his thudding heart. “Sam, that’s amazing.”

Sam shrugged. “I just hope Riley feels the same way.”

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky almost laughed. “Of course, he does! He loves you more than you will ever know. You obviously mean the world to him, and you changed his life. Whether or not Riley wants to consider this as a promise ring or as an engagement ring, he’s going to be thrilled and accept it in a heartbeat. You two are going to be together forever, and this gesture is just the next step in your future.”

Finally, Sam revealed his genuine, beaming grin. “Thanks, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled right back. “You don’t have to thank me for telling the truth.”

For another moment, they sat in comfortable silence until Sam nodded toward the box between them. “You wanna take a look at the ring?”

_Absolutely_ , Bucky did. Slowly opening the velvet lid, he found a gold band resting on the plush cushion, but even more breathtaking was the oval gemstone in the center of the ring. Holding the box at different angles, Bucky watched the lilac gem shift to a deeper turquoise before picking up flecks of green, sparkling under the sunlight. Almost like the way that Riley’s hazel eyes were comprised of a spectrum of colors. “My god, this is beautiful,” Bucky said, breathless, unable to tear his eyes away from the ever-changing gemstone.

“Alexandrite,” Sam explained. “My grandmother’s. My mom brought it during the family visits. ‘Just in case I needed it,’ she said. I know it’s not traditional, but it reminds me a lot of the rings that he already wears.”

“Since when does Riley care about tradition?” Bucky smirked, lifting the box higher to admire the intricate setting. “Sam, it’s absolutely perfect for him, and the fact that it has a history in your family makes it even more special.” With a sigh, Bucky parted with the sight of the stunning ring and closed the lid, handing it back to Sam. “Congratulations. I couldn’t be happier for you two.”

Sam held the box tight between his hands before slipping it into his pocket and raising a shoulder. “Congratulate me after I ask him. I wanted to wait until after the show is over – obviously, still today, but not in front of the cameras. I need him to know that I’m asking him this for _him_ and him alone.”

In that moment, Bucky realized that neither of them were wearing their mics, and he hoped that there were no hidden cameras either that would spoil the secret. Sam clearly wanted to ask this question in privacy, no lenses there to influence Riley’s decision or distort the genuine connection that they shared in an attempt to win the game. “That’s perfect, Sam.”

Bucky continued to smile as they both rose from the fire pit and pulled each other into a hug. “I’m happy for you and Steve too,” Sam said, patting his back. “Can’t wait to visit your new home in New York.”

Before Bucky could reply when they stepped apart, Sam nodded toward the kitchenette where Steve exited the bedroom. He narrowed his eyes at Bucky and Sam with a smirk. “What are you two doing out here bright and early?”

“What?” Bucky asked with a playful grin on his lips. “Am I not allowed to catch up with my first partner?”

Steve gave a slow nod. “Sure.”

Clearly with one topic stuck on his mind, Sam asked, “Riley’s still inside?”

“Yeah, they just woke everyone up to get ready. About two hours until they bring in the live audience.”

“Sounds good,” Sam said, appearing to hardly listen, before heading to the house.

Stepping closer, Steve drew Bucky in, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin at the truth behind his and Sam’s conversation. “What’s got you so happy?” Steve asked, lightly pinching Bucky’s hip.

Bucky swatted his hand away and took over the antagonistic role by poking Steve in the side, wishing that his boyfriend was as ticklish as _he_ was. “I know something you don’t know,” he sing-songed.

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”

“Mhm.” This time, when Bucky moved to poke him again, Steve caught his hand, but Bucky still beamed at him, partially letting him in on the secret. “Turns out you’ll be getting what you always wanted from this season after all.”

Judging by the way that Steve’s eyebrows pulled together, Bucky knew that his deliberately-vague response answered none of Steve’s questions, but he cleared away the confusion with a quick peck. Followed a much longer kiss that Bucky needed to force himself away from, putting space between them when he felt Steve’s tongue against his own, knowing that they both needed time to prepare for their last day. “See you at the finale, Steve.”

🏝🏝🏝🏝🏝

Bucky found Riley – the future fiancé of Sam Wilson – in their dressing room.

“Our last rodeo gettin’ ready together, bunny,” Riley said, sitting at his vanity and greeting him with a pout in the reflection of his mirror.

“Our last time getting ready together, and you _almost_ got my name right,” Bucky commended.

Crossing the room, Bucky leaned down and loosely wrapped his arms around Riley’s neck, hugging him from behind while he remained standing. Bucky rested his chin on top of Riley’s head to make him laugh, and Riley looked up at him through the mirror. “You gonna ask me what to wear today?”

“I think I’m legally required to at this point.”

Riley clapped his hands together and swiftly rose from his seat, tossing his hair behind him and leaving a wafting trail of wildflowers in the air when he moved to his closet. “I got something special for you,” Riley announced with an eager lilt to his voice. Before Bucky could feel the usual nerves return at his suggestions, Riley pulled out one particular hanger that was hidden deep in his closet. “While you were meeting Steve’s mama, Becca gave me this to give to you for the finale. She said it’d look best with those cropped, marble-patterned pants, and I couldn’t agree more.”

Bucky held the black t-shirt in his hands with an approving, appreciative smile.

In front of one of the full-body mirrors, they stood beside each other once they were dressed, as always. Bucky wore the black-and-white, marble-patterned pants, recalling the last time that he wore them was the recoupling in which Steve chose him after the week with Peggy, and paired them with a sleek black jacket, left open over the t-shirt from Becca. And, of course, the special occasion called for the Louboutin’s. Contrasting his monochrome ensemble, Riley wore _all_ of the colors. In one final jumpsuit, he boasted the entire rainbow through hand-dipped tie-dye, swirls and spirals and splatters stained across a white canvas material, like a hypnotizing painting that simply demanded attention. The gemstones glued to his cheekbones matched the ones on his white wedged heels, and in a way, alluded to the purple-blue-green one that he would likely be returning home with on his right hand. With the jumpsuit unzipped to his waist, Riley showed off his own homemade t-shirt. Except, his was white with black letters, colors inverted compared to Bucky’s black t-shirt with white letters.

#TEAM-STUCKY on Bucky’s and #TEAM-SAMLEY on Riley’s.

After the usual giggles and playful nudges and excessive number of selfies, Riley put on one final confident smirk. “You ready to rock this finale?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are YOU ready to rock the finale? (Because I sure am not! 😅)
> 
> Lovely audience, it has been an absolutely joy, a treat, an honor, and a privilege to share this story with you all! This has been a huge moment of my life that I will always look back on fondly, and I can't thank you enough for being here for me every step of the way. (Oh, just wait, you're getting an even sappier speech from me tomorrow 😂)
> 
> Before the final 'episode' 'airs' tomorrow, now is the perfect opportunity to tell me how you're feeling going into this last part 😊 Who are you rooting for? Who do you want to see take home the 50k? Who is your FAVORITE couple? (I already know who wins, obviously, but I would love to see the results from our own audience 😅)
> 
> 🎧 "Grand Finale" - The Front Bottoms
> 
> (If there is one song that perfectly, actually represents what is happening in the chapter, it's this one! It's quite amazing how this song fits so wonderfully in preparing for our own finale, so go give it a listen to get into the mood for tomorrow!)
> 
> Next time on Love Island...The Grand Finale 🥂


	60. Chapter 60

**Episode 60**

[ _Here we are, folks. The moment you’ve all been waiting for: The Grand Finale. Sixty days ago, we began this journey together as one big happy family. We’ve seen breakups, makeups, shakeups, and a whole lot of an elder-law attorney’s ass. We saw a supermodel fall in love with an airline pilot, and a lawyer fall in love with a television producer. A physical therapist made an Olympic tennis player her girlfriend, and a research pharmacist made a professional surfer her boyfriend. Two months have passed, and well, you’ve spent that precious time watching these pretty people fall in love on a reality TV show. And I’d say that’s time very well spent!_ ]

[ _Now, we’re here. We’re finally at our last episode, and I don’t know if you’re crying yet, because I sure am! Can anyone spare a Kleenex?_ ]

[ _Our eight Islanders are lookin’ fancy and rarin’ to – that one’s for you, Riley – run outside and meet their adoring fans. Psst! You all, I think Bucky might actually be excited this time!_ ]

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked by his side in the bedroom, waiting to be called out to the patio. He looked perfectly debonair in a sinfully-tailored suit that they had yet to see on the show – a teal color, kind of blue, kind of green, but totally capable of bringing out the hue of his gorgeous eyes. Leaving a couple of buttons undone at the top of his pressed, cream-colored shirt, he flashed a peak of toned skin, tinted a teensy bit pink from the months of sun. He swept his golden, just-a-little-too-long hair back with a bit of product, leaving it messy-neat, as if Bucky ran his hands through it.

Bucky grinned at his beautiful boyfriend. “I’m excited,” he said, and he truly meant it. Really. Maybe for the first time. “No matter what happens, no matter who wins, it’ll be incredible.”

The others had already been invited outside, as Bucky and Steve watched from a monitor. In a shimmering, glittering silver dress, Janet welcomed the hundred or so fans who sat along the perimeter of the villa, lining the sides of the pool, facing the house. They all wore semi-formal, as well, and easily could have been mistaken for a mob of new Islanders. While Bucky shuddered at the thought, Janet called out for Carol and Val, and the screams from the audience could be heard loud and clear from inside the bedroom. The girlfriends held each other’s hands as they strutted down the ivy-lined pathway, looking like a true power couple. Carol wore a sharp, black suit with a smoky eye, almost like the business-professional version of her rockstar outfit, and Val showed off her stunning arms in a sleeveless, rose-gold gown and matching, layered jewelry around her neck and wrists.

They waved at the crowd and stood beside Janet along one of the short ends of the pool where a single chair sat next to a loveseat, where they presumably did their private interviews.

For now, though, Janet continued to introduce the remaining couples to stand beside each other, calling for Sam and Riley next. As if the applause for Carol and Val hadn’t been electric enough, the applause for Sam and Riley sounded like an explosion, rattling the French doors. Bucky heard the crowd shouting Riley’s name and knew that he was basking in the praise, as they cheered for not only him and his phenomenal tie-dye ensemble but his relationship with Sam at his side, unable to take his eyes off of Riley. Sam looked incredible, himself, in a button-down in the loudest color that he had worn so far: a vibrant fuchsia that almost hurt to look at in the bright sunlight. Together, they were easily the most breathtaking couple that Bucky had ever seen, and his heart swelled at the sight of the gentle peck that they gave each other in front of the pool.

The audience, of course, screamed louder.

Jane and Thor were next to face the tidal wave of noise that crashed over them. Jane’s hair cascaded down her back in waves over top of the laces of her sunshiney, yellow dress, complemented by Thor’s cobalt blue suit, bright and full of light, like their relationship. While Thor appeared to thrive as the center of attention, Jane ducked her head, cheeks flushing.

When the crowd stopped cheering, Bucky readjusted his collar, stepping toward the doors, and Steve reached out to stop him. Spinning him around, Steve cupped Bucky’s face between his hands. “I love you,” Steve said simply, plainly but filled with so much power.

“I love you too,” Bucky replied immediately and brought their lips together. He pulled apart with a smile, mouths purposefully smacking to make each other chuckle. “Whatever happens?”

“Happens,” Steve finished without hesitation, right as Janet called their names.

The audience screamed before they even stepped outside, and Bucky frankly felt scared from the moment that they opened the doors. They walked down the ivy-lined pathway in step with each other, but when they reached the end, Bucky paused. Steve squeezed his hand and gave him the kind smile that he needed to round the corner.

Instantly, a wall of noise smacked Bucky in the face. The screams sounded so loud that his brain practically blocked out the cheers and applause, so that the only thing that he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. His smile formed in pure disbelief. All of these people were cheering for – for _him_. For Steve. For him _and_ Steve. They screamed as if they were at a concert or game at a stadium, like they were celebrities. _Shit_ , Bucky realized in a daze. _In a way, they truly_ were _celebrities_. Embracing that role, Bucky greeted one particular fan who called out his name, giving her a shy wave, and – _oh shit, she fainted_. Not really, but she did collapse against her friend, both appearing to be on the verge of tears. All because Bucky waved in their direction.

_Christ_ , was he ready for this power? He didn’t exactly have a choice.

They took their spots in the line beside Jane and Thor, standing in the middle of the sea of people who cried out for them. It felt like hours had passed by the time that they quieted enough for Janet to announce, “Welcome, everyone, to the season finale of Love Island 2020!”

That statement brought another round of cheers, but they stopped sooner. Anticipation buzzed in the air, filling the eager silence, as they all seemed to lean forward, waiting for Janet to continue.

She did just that. “For two months, we’ve kept you on your toes, but that ends today. Today, we’re diving right into the results. Who’s ready to find out our fourth-place couple?”

The audience lagged in giving their raucous response, perhaps shocked like the Islanders. Bucky looked down the line at his fellow competitors who gasped, shifting their gazes around, as well. With no lead-up, were they really about to reveal the first result?

Apparently, the answer was yes. “Islanders, the public has been voting for their favorite couple of Season 11, and the couple who ended in fourth place is…”

As Janet paused, building the expected-yet-still-painful tension, Bucky returned his attention to where it naturally landed: Steve. He smiled back at Bucky, reassuring him by raising one corner of his mouth. Between them, Bucky gave Steve’s hand a quick pulse, reassuring him right back, knowing that they would both be happy, regardless of their final place.

“Jane and Thor!”

Despite the news being somewhat bittersweet, a reminder that they wouldn’t be going home fifty thousand dollars richer, Jane and Thor turned to each other with beaming grins. They couldn’t have appeared any happier with the result. As the audience erupted, Bucky joined the applause for them, while they sat on the loveseat in front of Janet in her single chair. Another TV monitor sat between them, displaying the logo and title of the show – a shockingly simple white heart beside equally-simple white text.

_Huh_ , Bucky thought. _How had he never seen the logo before?_

“Jane and Thor,” Janet began, settling into her chair, “it has been an absolute joy watching your relationship bloom since you met during Casa Amor. Shall we take a look?”

The screen switched to a video, showing clips throughout the season, just as Bucky remembered them. Starting from the very first day, Thor walked into the villa, following the camera out onto the pool deck. _“Hello, friends!” his voice boomed when he saw the other Islanders in line._

“At the first coupling,” Janet narrated, “Thor partnered up with Wanda.”

The video showed that decision and the hug that they exchanged before switching to a private conversation between Thor and Wanda that Bucky had obviously not been a part of when it happened live. “But early on,” Janet continued, “these two decided that perhaps friendship would be the only relationship that they would form.”

_“I think you’re a really cool, guy,” Wanda said, “but we clearly have different goals in life.”_

_Thor agreed, and they exchanged another platonic hug._

“After Wanda kept Thor in the villa for another week, he explored a new relationship with Val, while Carol was introduced to new Islander Maria.”

The video showed a few of their private chats, clearly flirting with each other, light brushes and wandering eyes. They showed the recoupling and the prom, dancing together and sharing a kiss, followed by the next recoupling before Casa Amor when they chose each other again.

“Seemingly pleased in their couple, Thor never expected his head to turn, but then, he met Jane.”

_“Holy shit,” Thor told the camera in the confessional shack, looking aghast, what looked to be right after the new Islanders from Casa Amor were introduced in the main villa. “I think I just met the love of my life.”_

The audience cheered, and Janet interrupted with a grin. “But Jane felt less convinced.”

_“I don’t think Thor and I will get along very well,” Jane told the same camera in her own confessional._

Along with the other Islanders and Jane and Thor themselves, the crowd laughed and watched the rest of the video, smiles plastered on their faces. The scenes quickly changed in brief glimpses of their moments together following the recoupling after Casa Amor – conversations late at night, full of longing looks, before giving way to cuddles and kisses, tucked away in different corners of the villa. They showed them playing with their baby doll (Jane wincing while Thor tossed it into the air) and then meeting each other’s families. They showed footage of their final date, laughing hysterically after wiping out on a wave together, too distracted by each other to notice the water curling behind them. They showed the snorkeling and the kiss at the water’s edge, so unbelievably romantic that Bucky felt his heart flip in his chest. They showed how they held each other close after the final elimination ceremony and clips from the beautiful speeches that they shared at their ‘wedding’ when they became an official couple. The video ended with a final kiss, seemingly taken from the night before, from a stolen moment out on the balcony that overlooked the villa, while the stars sparkled above them.

Those in the audience who weren’t shedding tears clapped their hands and shouted their approval. Janet and the other Islanders joined the applause, while Jane and Thor ducked their heads in humble appreciation.

“Such wonderful memories,” Janet succinctly summarized. “Jane, are you happy that you actually gave Thor a chance?”

Nodding her head, Jane laughed. “Very much so. If I could go back and change one thing, I would tell myself to open my heart to him sooner.”

The audience let out a collective _aw_ , and Janet turned her attention to Thor. “Any advice to your past self?”

With his eyes never leaving Jane, Thor shrugged. “The past is in the past. What matters now is living in the moment and building a future with my beautiful, incredible girlfriend.”

Janet encouraged the already-present applause to grow louder, saying, “Jane and Thor, everyone!”

As they moved off to the side, still smiling fondly, the reality sunk in that Bucky found himself in the final three couples. _33.3%_ _chance of winning_ , his brain supplied before he could even ask. _What the hell?_ He had absolutely no idea how they got to this point, every moment for the past two months passing by in a blur, but with Steve by his side, he felt so incredibly proud. They built a relationship that they worked tirelessly for, that they _fought_ for, that felt natural and right at every step of the way. He felt honored that the general public, those supposed millions of people who voted for their favorite couples, considered him and Steve to be in their top three. He felt ready for Janet to announce the third-place couple.

After shifting down the line, readjusting their spacing, as guided by Dernier’s watchful eye, Janet flipped to her next notecard. “Islanders, the couple in third place, as voted by the public, is…” Bucky and Steve squeezed each other’s hands at the same time, heads down as a rush of nerves flooded their bodies, and Janet looked up from her card with an ecstatic, ruby-red grin. “Carol and Val!”

The applause sounded even louder this time, but again, Bucky hardly heard it, overwhelmed by pure shock. While Carol and Val hugged each other and moved to the loveseat, the implications of their actions set in. Bucky and Steve were in the top two couples. Alongside Sam and Riley. Shaking his head and letting out a disbelieving huff of a laugh, Bucky stepped to his right, closer to the only other couple standing. Riley met his eye, raising a hand to cover his mouth in blatant surprise too. Their boyfriends grinned at them, wide and warm smiles that felt as comforting as the sun above, and Steve pulled Bucky against his side, arm wrapped around his waist.

_50% chance of winning_.

But as much as both couples wished to celebrate, Bucky knew that they needed to congratulate Carol and Val, and he turned his attention forward when their video began to play. “Carol and Val: a couple, even after some detours, who were partnered from the very beginning,” Janet said, as the first clip showed Val walking through the house on the first day, out onto the pool deck, and immediately setting her sights on Carol.

The next clip showed their first embrace and their first private conversation in which they already made each other laugh. Lifting a hand to her forehead, Carol cringed at the snort that she let out at one of Val’s jokes, but Val only looked at her even more lovingly. _“Val is amazing,” on-screen Carol said in a shared confessional, giggling with Val by her side._

_“My absolute dream girl,” Val agreed._

The scene switched to the superhero challenge, where they exchanged a passionate kiss in slow-motion with balloon pieces clinging to Val’s skin, completely drenched, as Carol held her face between her hands.

“Although sparks were clearly flying,” Janet interrupted the lighthearted romance, “when new Islanders arrived, they decided that it was still early days and chose to get to know other people.”

Val’s lips were tight while she watched herself flirt with Thor, swimming in the pool together, and Carol dropped her gaze when the video switched to her date with Maria, sipping wine on a picnic blanket in a field of flowers. The tension remained as they watched the recouplings and the prom, dancing and kissing their other partners.

“But at Casa Amor, perhaps the tides changed, as Carol and Val began to reconnect.”

Just as Bucky and Riley isolated themselves, hiding on a daybed in the background, Carol and Val appeared to do the same, sitting together on adjacent deck chairs and talking in low tones about how they felt about their partners. _“As much as Thor is fun to be with, I don’t think he’s in it with me for the long-game,” Val admitted, voice hushed, a little sad._

_Carol nodded. “Maria and I connect well, but I’m not sure it’s a ‘true love’ situation.”_

“The universe seemed to align, giving them the perfect opportunity to rekindle their relationship.”

After showing the painful-yet-ideal recoupling that left them single again, the clips maintained a much more positive tone for the rest of the video. _They cheered together, hugging each other and bouncing up and down, when they received the only perfect score in the Newly-Partnered Game, earning their stay in the Hideaway. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman in the world,” Carol said, breathless, as they cuddled together on the red, satin sheets, legs tangled, running their fingers through each other’s hair._

They both blushed in real life when their kisses on-screen grew hungry, nipping each other’s pink lips and slipping hands beneath shirts, before the video abruptly switched to another exciting moment for their relationship. _“Carol, will you be my girlfriend?” Val asked with colored water splashed in their faces, dying their clothes._

Carol and Val smiled as much as they did in the moments that followed – making each other laugh and swoon in the heartrate monitor challenge, cooing at their baby dolls, and exchanging hugs with each other’s families. They watched the tennis match that Val allowed Carol to win, blatantly stepping out of the way of easy shots and half-jogging to swing her racket in the complete opposite direction that she should have to hit the ball. The audience laughed and cheered at the infamous bumblebee scene, while Val chuckled at herself running around the picturesque flower garden, screaming at the top of her lungs. The video ended with a wonderful quote from Carol’s ‘wedding vows’:

_“I love you, Val. I’ve always loved you, and I can’t wait to take on the future together.”_

As they shared a kiss on the screen, Carol and Val gave each other a brief peck, while the crowd cheered, applauding and chanting their names. They pulled apart with a laugh when Val rubbed her nose against Carol’s, and Janet gave a pleased sigh. “Carol and Val, what a delight it’s been to watch your relationship blossom right before our eyes. Val, on first impressions, you chose Carol as your first partner. Would you say that it was love at first sight?”

Val embraced the challenging question with ease. “It may not have been _love_ at first sight, but it was absolutely a special moment for me. She immediately drew me in with her beautiful smile, and it was her unbelievably kind heart that sealed the deal. Her work is amazing, we get along so well, and it’ll be a dream come true to go back home with her by my side.”

Janet gave the audience time to clap before turning to Carol. “You’re moving in together, right? Are you worried at all about adapting to daily life?”

“Sure,” Carol said with a shrug. “It’ll be a totally different environment compared to Love Island, but we’ll get through it together. I know for a fact that we’ll be perfectly fine, and I can’t wait to build a future with this awesome lady.”

Val nuzzled their noses together again before sharing a real kiss, and the crowd erupted with cheers and rightfully-deserved applause.

Carol and Val stepped to the side, joining Jane and Thor with hugs and high-fives. That left Bucky standing beside Steve, still pressed against his side, almost how they spent the entire summer, with their closest friends in the villa as the only couple left standing with them. Riley giggled, and Sam shook his head, as if struggling to believe the reality of the situation. Bucky felt the same way, wondering when this moment would start to feel real.

_50% chance of winning_ , repeated in his mind, and his heart fluttered at the thought.

Fifty thousand dollars would have been absolutely huge to buy and renovate their future house, but Bucky would have felt just as happy if Sam and Riley were declared the winners. They certainly deserved the title of being the top couple of the season after spending every single day partnered together. Quickly, patiently, wholeheartedly, they fell in love over the span of the season, treating the others to the sight of their beautiful relationship developing over the course of the two months. The first to spend a night in the Hideaway, the first to make their relationship official, the first to say, ‘I love you,’ and after the cameras were put away, bags were packed, and they had a moment alone, Bucky knew in his heart that they would be the first couple to get engaged.

_Hell_ , Bucky happily would have voted for them if he was a member of the audience.

“We are down to our final two couples of Season 11,” Janet announced through a beaming grin. “Bucky and Steve! And Sam and Riley!”

The audience’s cheers reached a nearly-deafening pitch, and Bucky laughed at the sight of the crowd leaping into the air, screaming their approval into the clear-blue sky.

“But before we announce the winners, we would truly be remiss to not acknowledge one of the greatest aspects of the season that no one could have predicted.” Bucky raised an eyebrow, wondering what Janet possibly could have been alluding to, and Steve lightly pinched his hip, as if he knew what she was about to say. “Riley and Bucky, come on over!”

Tossing his head back with a squeal, Riley clapped his hands together, and both of Bucky’s eyebrows raised higher. But he followed his orders and crossed the deck to sit beside Riley on the loveseat. Riley wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him from the side, while the audience let out another _aw!_ at the sight. As they settled in together, Bucky throwing his arm behind Riley’s shoulders, Janet switched to her next notecard with an ecstatic smile. “What a _joy_ it has been to watch your friendship grow throughout this experience! Can I say bromance of the century?”

While the crowd cheered, Riley shook his head, brushing off her question with a (not-so) joke. “You can just say romance.”

Bucky chuckled, and they all turned to the screen where a new video had been queued, ready for Janet to narrate. “From the beginning, I think we all expected Riley and Bucky to be enemies instead of friends.”

The video showed Bucky partnering himself with Sam, his very first moment on the Island, showing Bucky’s smiling face that immediately changed when Riley walked into the villa, exuding confidence in his first of many fringed, kimono wraps and heels. In-person Bucky smirked, watching Riley ‘steal his partner,’ while on-screen Bucky’s nearly-optimistic expression fell, crushed by this possibility that he didn’t even know was possible. The scene switched to Riley glaring in Bucky’s direction when he asked Sam to chat privately without realizing the offense that would be taken.

_“I’m not entirely sure what_ Bucky’s _angle is here,” on-screen Riley told the confessional, spitting out his name like poison. “I’m a nice person, but that can change.”_

Riley cackled at his own unconvincing threat, while Bucky snorted, unable to see past the glitter and fringe and feathers to find any sort of real animosity.

“The tension between them lasted for a few more days,” Janet explained, as the video showed Riley’s backhanded compliment in regard to Bucky and Steve’s first kiss during the superhero challenge, “until someone finally cleared up the miscommunication.”

It was Nat.

_Pulling Riley off to the side, Nat nervously tucked her hair behind her ears before telling him the truth. “Listen, Bucky doesn’t mean to offend you at all. I forced him to come onto the show, so he actually has no idea what’s happening with – well, all of this, really.”_

Somehow completely unbeknownst to him, all along, Nat had been the catalyst that brought Riley into Bucky’s life. Bucky needed to thank her – for many reasons – as soon as he made it home.

The video then showed Riley’s apology, followed by Bucky’s apology, in their dressing room before taking pictures together in their matching daisy outfits and Riley instructing Bucky to choose the leather jacket – their first of many, many conversations and selfies and fashion advice. From then, the rest was history, as documented by the remaining clips. They showed the way that Riley stayed by Bucky’s side the entire time that Steve was coupled with Peggy, helping him accept his feelings and admit them out loud. They watched how Bucky comforted Riley at Casa Amor, cuddling on the daybed with their hands clasped, as Bucky wiped Riley’s tears away, struggling to cope with the overwhelming emotions that were released by that awful video. They saw Riley suggesting the lobster-print shirt that Bucky wore to their beach date.

On another much happier note, they laughed together, watching Riley chase Bucky around the villa with a whipped cream ‘pie’ in his hand. Then, on a much _steamier_ note, on-screen Riley flashed Bucky’s heartrate monitor challenge outfit to a camera in the living room, shaking the corset and skirt and stockings to the lens before bringing them upstairs to Bucky. Real-life Bucky blushed at the image of himself in that outfit, while Riley trained him on how to walk in the heels.

Bucky laughed again at the next clip, completely forgetting that Riley called him, “ _America’s favorite little sex kitten_.”

In another more serious clip, Bucky comforted Riley before the final elimination, reminding him that his relationship with Sam was genuine and special and would withstand any test of time. _“You love me?” Riley asked, watery eyes wide._

_Bucky nodded and accidentally-but-meaningfully called Riley his “best friend.”_

The video featured a few angles of their ‘wedding’ attire, black and white, as if _they_ were the ones getting married before fading out with the hug that they gave each other in the dressing room only a few hours earlier.

“What a remarkable journey you two shared together!” Janet shouted over the enthusiastic applause, making the audience scream even louder.

Bucky laughed, having no idea that his unexpected friendship would attract such a strong fan base.

When the applause quieted, Janet switched to her more relaxed interview voice. “You two almost hated each other in the beginning. What happened?”

Shaking his head, Riley chuckled. “I had absolutely _no_ idea that Bucky was so unfamiliar with the show! I really thought he had a grudge against me for choosing Sam and was purposefully trying to upset me.”

Bucky simply gave a casual shrug. “I just thought Riley was a bitch.”

The crowd laughed, fueling Bucky’s confidence, while Riley gave him a gentle shove.

“But ever since you two made amends,” Janet continued, “ _Buckley_ grew stronger and stronger each day.” The audience cheered again, and with a shared smile with Riley, Bucky had to admit that their names sounded adorable put together. “Will we continue to see your beautiful friendship flourish in the outside world, or was this only a summertime fling?”

Grinning, Bucky shook his head, taking the lead on this conversation. “Oh, I think we are absolutely going to remain friends outside the villa. I mean, who else is going to tell me what to wear every day?”

“Obviously,” Riley agreed with a nod. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but I have a business proposition for you, gummy bear.” Totally immune to the nickname that the fans giggled at, Bucky leaned in, quirking an eyebrow at Riley’s lead-up, as did the others around them. “I think we should start a podcast together!”

While Bucky processed that suggestion, the crowd shouted out their approval, and Janet gave them a smile.

“Seriously, think about it! It’d be a way that we can keep in touch with each other, recording on Skype or something like that. We can talk about the show and our lives and our boys – anything we want! We can interview the other Islanders to have as special guests, or we can just keep it between ourselves. Either way, I think we should call it, _Can We Speak To Your Manager?_ ”

Perhaps giving into the peer-pressure of the fanatic applause, having never once had any interest in creating a podcast, Bucky nodded with a lighthearted laugh. “Let’s do it.”

Janet gave the crowd another opportunity to cheer for them, encouraging Bucky and Riley to exchange a final hug before replacing Bucky with Sam to continue the ceremony. The happy couple greeted each other with a kiss once they were reconnected on the loveseat, and Bucky took his place beside Steve again. “I’m excited to hear your podcast,” Steve ducked down to whisper, while the audience clapped and whistled for Sam and Riley.

“Sam and Riley, the couple who have been together since our very first episode,” Janet greeted them with, as their video started to play.

From Riley’s perspective, they watched him strut through the house for the first time, bleach-blonde hair and fringe flying behind him, as the camera panned up and down his long legs. They saw him couple up with Sam for the first time – that fated first time. “Love at first sight,” Janet mused, reading from her notecard, “seems to have been invented for Riley and Sam.”

Even during their first private conversation, pure _love_ sparkled in their eyes, gazing at each other as if they already meant the absolute world to the other man. After their first week, they looked like they had been together for years, and Bucky watched them exchange their first kiss, lying on a daybed after the first recoupling ceremony, while he and Steve unknowingly watched from the balcony above them. They shared another kiss after the superhero game in which Sam lifted Riley from the ground, celebrating winning a stay in the Hideaway that night. Bucky never realized how early in the process it was for a private night alone, but their emotional connection was as palpable and genuine as their physical connection, as demonstrated by the way that they gazed longingly into each other’s eyes. _Riley straddled Sam’s waist at the edge of the Hideaway bed before they exchanged another passionate kiss, while Riley shoved them back onto the mattress._

The video tastefully faded into the next scenes that flashed by – plenty more kisses and cuddles, conversations and heartfelt compliments poured out from Sam overjoyed by Riley’s unique and fantastical outfits. Of course, they featured the moment when they both asked each other to be their boyfriend, starting with Riley’s nervous confession, followed by Sam’s reassuring admission that he planned to ask the exact same question. In real life, Riley and Sam beamed at their kiss, watching the way that they pressed their foreheads together and feverishly chased each other’s mouths, as if they would never receive the opportunity again.

The moments at Casa Amor briefly changed the tone. “Despite their connection growing even stronger, reaching the point where they could finally make their relationship official, they experienced a brief hiccup at Casa Amor.”

Riley and Sam both dropped their gaze to the deck when the video showed clips from _the video_. _“He looks like he could be a prince or something,” Riley said, talking to Bucky who didn’t appear on the screen, as the scene immediately changed to Sam back at the main villa._

_“She’s crazy hot. That’s the type of person you recouple with.”_

Hearing the quote of context, in the context that Riley heard it, Sam shook his head. His heart visibly broke at the sight of Riley curled up on the daybed, sobbing while Bucky attempted to quiet his tears. The clip abruptly switched to Sam and Steve in a similar position. _With one hand covering his eyes, Sam clearly cried, sniffling into the microphone around his neck. “I don’t know what to do, man.”_

_“I know how they do this, Sam. You don’t have to worry about this,” Steve attempted to reassure him by resting a hand on his arm with a pained expression on his face._

_“I don’t want to do this again. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I just – I just love him.”_

Riley raised his hands to his chest, jaw dropping, hearing Sam admit those words for the first time out loud. Sam finally smiled again and rested his head against Riley’s shoulder, as they both watched the recoupling from the next day, forced to witness Riley collapse to the ground for a second time, covering his face with his hands. But, as they all remembered, the Islanders and audience watched Sam rush to his side. After seeing him help Riley stand, they all relived the beautiful moment when Sam told Riley that magical three-word phrase, happily applauding when they repeated it to each other in the present.

The final clips showed their ‘double-date’ with Bucky and Steve, lying in the pool on floats, followed by the heartrate monitor challenge in which they still beamed at each other, even if Bucky was ultimately the one to raise their heartrates the most, Sam tearing away his pants and Riley flapping his angel wings. They watched them cradle their ‘twins’ in their arms, as Riley sang a gentle lullaby under his breath, coaxing the dolls to ‘sleep.’ _Sam pressed a light kiss to each doll’s forehead. “Love you, Griffin. Love you, M.J.”_ They watched them meet each other’s families, immediately welcomed in with hugs and laughter.

At the final clip, Bucky admittedly felt tears swell in his eyes for the vows that they exchanged at their ‘wedding,’ especially after the conversation that he shared with Sam in the morning. Whoever edited the video gave the final lines to Riley: _“Wherever we go, I have no doubt that we’ll be perfectly fine, because we’re going there together. I love you now, and I’ll love you forever, Sammie.”_

The audience shared their approval with the expected fervent applause, but Bucky noticed a few members of the crowd wiping their eyes. He didn’t blame them at all and lifted a hand to wipe his own. Steve nudged his side, pulling him closer and dropping a kiss to his shoulder.

“Breathtaking,” Janet summarized perfectly. “Watching your relationship develop has been absolutely breathtaking, and we truly can’t thank you enough for sharing it with the world.”

The fans agreed with another bout of applause.

“You two had no difficulty in the beginning, exploring your connection and opening up to each other, but then, you hit a small snag at Casa Amor – which, of course, turned out to be no real issue. Tell me, what was going through your heads at that point?”

With a nod and a sigh, Riley took the lead on answering this question. “This was a really difficult moment for us both. We never had to overcome any major issues on the show, but our biggest obstacle turned out to be our own doubts and imaginations. Worryin’ about all these things that never really happened and expectin’ the absolute worst. What this moment proved to us, though, is that our relationship truly is real. This is genuine, this is amazing, and this is love.”

Bucky happily joined the applause at that beautiful comment, realizing that he was most likely looking at the winners of the season, and he couldn’t have felt happier for them.

“Now, Sam, can you give us some insight into what the future holds for Samley? If you were to win the fifty thousand dollars, do you know what you’d do with it?” Janet asked with a smile.

Letting out a chuckle, Sam nodded. “We decided to spend some time apart when we get home – purely distance, though! Our relationship has never been stronger, and we’ll be figuring out the logistics of moving in together. I think the fifty thousand would greatly help with figuring out those details, but we don’t need it. We honestly feel that we’ve already won. We found each other, and we fell in love. He’s my boyfriend, and in the future, I hope to make him a whole lot more than that.”

Bucky knew that Riley’s approving grin crashed over Sam in a wave of relief, hopefully convincing him to ask that very special question later in the day.

“We will all, of course, be looking forward to seeing everything that the future holds for you two,” Janet said, opening her arms to the audience. “Sam and Riley, everyone!”

They bowed their heads, appreciative of the applause, and Janet asked for Bucky and Steve to take their places on the loveseat, while Sam and Riley stood in the background. Back in the center of the attention, with the sun beating down on them like a spotlight, as the audience roared at their appearance, Steve gave Bucky’s hand a quick squeeze, somehow knowing the nerves that flooded his system, reminding him of the stage fright that he felt before his orchestra concerts in middle school. Steve grounded him back down to earth. With his eyes, he said, _Everything will be okay_.

“Bucky and Steve,” Janet welcomed them. “Another couple who, in a way, has been together since the very first day.”

Bucky chuckled, while Steve nodded. “Technically true.”

“We had the luxury of seeing Steve, a man that I have known for years behind the cameras, finally take a chance at being a contestant,” Janet continued. “From their first date, we got to see romance bloom between these two, but their connection truly began while Steve was still a producer on this season. Unfortunately, we have not had the privilege of seeing them interact in the beginning of their relationship…until today!”

While excited chatter fell over the crowd, Bucky and Steve exchanged a quick glance before turning their attention to the TV screen, where a camera in the corner of the room caught their first interaction. _“Bucky Barnes?” Steve asked when they met at the door to the confessionals shack, looking down at his clipboard – the first thing that they said to each other._

_“That’s me,” Bucky said, and when Steve lifted his gaze, revealing his stellar blue eyes, Bucky felt his breath freeze in his chest._

_As if he noticed, Steve replied with a smirk, “Pleasure to meet you.”_

Bucky shook his head, feeling as if that conversation happened a lifetime ago. The next clip showed them at the door again after they filmed Bucky’s introduction and made ridiculous, horrible jokes, and Bucky clearly remembered this moment, watching it while slightly cringing.

_“Do you do all of these singular interview sessions?” Bucky asked._

_Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Just about.”_

_“Then, can I ask for your name? Or is that another thing that contestants don’t usually ask?”_

Raising an embarrassed hand to his forehead, Bucky watched himself stare up at Steve, like he had never seen an attractive man before; Jesus, he really pulled out the fuck-me eyes during the first conversation, huh?

Bucky continued to wince at himself, while the next clips, again filmed from above in the corner, showed them sharing coffee, having the typical just-met conversations, and blatantly flirting. _“That’s a conversation for another day,” Steve said at some point._

_“Another coffee date?” Bucky hopelessly suggested._

_At first, Steve kept his eyes low. “Don’t get used to this.”_

Whether he knew in the moment or not, Steve had been alluding to the fact that the next day, he would be joining the show. But not before Bucky poured his heart out to Nat, admitting that maybe he _liked_ the man who would ultimately be the boyfriend that he planned to move in with and loved. _“Okay, so, maybe, hypothetically-speaking, there might be someone that I am potentially interested in. I’m not saying that I like them or I dislike them. They are simply of –_ interest _, to me.”_

While Bucky rolled his eyes at his own words, heard perfectly fucking clear by a hidden camera in the bench behind him after thinking that they had outsmarted the production team by tossing their mics to the side, Steve grinned and leaned closer. “I had no idea you said that,” he whispered. “They didn’t show me that.”

Bucky had almost forgotten about this conversation with Nat entirely, but he certainly didn’t forget the next scene. _When he approached the table in front of a wall of candles on their first date, Bucky asked, “Is this a joke?”_

The audience laughed, as if it truly was.

They watched them share that first bottle of champagne and have deeply personal conversations, abbreviating some of the details. They watched their interactions over the next few days, playful nudges and laughs and the first time that Steve sunk his fingers into Bucky’s hair. They watched the first recoupling when Steve chose Bucky to be his first partner, sending Brock home, which made everyone applaud.

From then on, everything went so beautifully (at least for a little while). They shared coffee in bed and cuddles on their favorite daybed, and they shared their first kiss after the superhero challenge. Bucky genuinely felt proud to see how well he performed through the obstacle course and felt the same butterflies in his stomach that fluttered when they finally, finally, finally brought their mouths together. They continued to share kisses and conversations, falling for each other with each brush of their lips and each detail that they learned about each other, and Bucky smiled when he remembered that they were supposedly the most compatible for each other.

Then, Nat got eliminated.

Bucky tensed when he saw the others leave the foyer in the video, knowing what was going to happen next, but Steve held his hand in real life to help get him through it. Shaking his head, Bucky could hardly stomach the sight of himself losing his temper, overwhelmed, and lashing out at Steve in an attempt to rationalize his thoughts. His heart broke again when Steve retreated, appearing utterly shattered, when he walked up the stairs, leaving Bucky alone.

Of course, Peggy came next. Seeing a new scene, one that he had obviously not experienced first-hand, Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together, forced to watch Steve share breakfast with Peggy on a stunning patio that overlooked the ocean, somewhere far from the villa where Bucky had been waiting to apologize. The only solace that Bucky found while seeing his boyfriend chuckle at the gorgeous woman was the fact that he knew how these few torturous days ended.

But he still had to witness them on the video, as Steve drew circles on the back of his hand with his thumb.

_On-screen Bucky told Steve –_ lied _to Steve_ – _that he wanted him to explore a relationship with Peggy. Sitting on his lonely deck chair, Bucky stared at them from afar, as they got to know each other. Bucky watched them kiss during the social media challenge, looking sick to his stomach. He seemed just as miserable at the prom, but thankfully, a brief moment of respite came in the form of their conversation at the end of the dance. Perhaps, their first_ honest _conversation._

_“Steve, I’m a fucking mess,” Bucky started with, and it was probably the most truthful thing that he had said until that point._

_Steve listened patiently, holding his hands, when the truth spilled out of Bucky, boiling over and pouring out of his mouth, tears falling down his face. When Bucky was finished, they exchanged a hug, holding each other close, as if they never, ever wanted to let go._

Before the next recoupling ceremony, Bucky remembered the feeling of losing his hands in Steve’s hair, losing track of time in the dark, while Steve cried in the living room. In present day, Bucky interlaced their fingers, bringing up their hands to kiss Steve’s knuckles, because the next scene? The next scene was wonderful.

_This time, Bucky cried after Steve gave that beautiful speech and chose him._

He chose him. And it felt just as comforting to hear for the second time. At that point, the audience applauded again, cheering for the kiss that they shared on the screen and in real life when Steve pulled Bucky in for a short peck.

“But, unfortunately,” Janet continued, returning to her narration, “Casa Amor threw another complication at these two.”

_Of course,_ Bucky watched them share yet another week apart, but during that time, he worried about Riley and his relationship, rather than Steve and his own. When they returned to the villa, Bucky chuckled at the sight of him running down the deck stairs when he saw Steve waiting for him at the fire pit, alone.

From then on, Bucky contentedly watched the remaining clips. He grinned when the camera panned to the ocean waves crashing against the beach where Steve asked Bucky to be his boyfriend over spilled champagne. In the next scene, Bucky’s eyebrows shot high onto his forehead when he saw them exchanging a very passionate kiss in the bathroom, as Steve shoved him back against the door, when they were supposed to be celebrating his birthday.

Someone in the crowd let out a whistle that made Bucky laugh, admiring Steve’s blush.

Thankfully, the video showed nothing else from that night, skipping ahead to their night under the stars and skipping over Steve’s faux pas during the drink-throwing game. But bringing back Steve’s blush at full force, as well as introducing his own blush, Bucky watched Steve rip open his dress shirt, revealing his Superman crop top. “As if Steve’s performance in the heartrate monitor challenge wasn’t super enough,” Janet announced with a smirk, “Mr. Bucky Barnes gave us the performance of a lifetime, redefining the game and going down in Love Island history by raising the most number of heartrates _ever_.”

Even while the audience clapped, Bucky clenched his teeth in preparation of seeing himself descend the deck stairs in the corset, skirt, stockings, and heels. _“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said in a dirty, dirty tone._

The crowd erupted with screams and applause, while Bucky ducked his head, hardly able to watch himself shake his ass in Thor’s face, shimmying in front Riley, having Sam run his hand up his leg, and then – well, dropping to the floor and sucking Steve’s fingers into his mouth. Bucky would have assumed that this particular move would have been censored, but clearly, it had not.

“After an unprecedented win, the two shared a rightfully-deserved, romantic stay in the Hideaway.”

As Nat explained, the clips showed nothing graphic – walking into the room, checking out the closet without showing anything inside, and talking about consent. Steve’s grip on his hand tightened when they watched Bucky move them to the end of the bed, so that he could give Steve a special dance. With an embarrassing slap and an even more embarrassing _“Daddy_ , _”_ the video switched to a much more PG-13 scene, showing them avoiding the baby challenge by lounging on their daybed. Watching them draw on each other’s skin meant that they would be seeing their magical first _“I love you_ , _”_ and it still warmed Bucky’s heart to hear them exchange those words. Next came their family visits, meeting each other’s Ma’s, and then their final date, the sweet and savory that Bucky could still taste in his mouth, while Steve invited Bucky to move in with him. They exchanged beautiful, lifelong vows in front of the others (before they were repeated in the privacy that cameras couldn’t record).

Their video faded out on one of Steve’s promises: _“’Til the end of the line.”_

Bucky may or may not have felt a tear roll down his cheek, while the audience cheered, applauding with such vigor that he didn’t feel worthy. Steve at his side, however, ignored the crowd completely and wiped Bucky’s tears away with his thumb, making him feel completely deserving of the praise. They had been through so much together, building an entire relationship and the start of their future, and it was _amazing_. It was far more than Bucky had ever envisioned he would gain from this experience.

“What a journey!” Janet declared once the crowd quieted themselves after quite a long ovation. “I don’t even know where to begin with your phenomenal relationship, so simply tell me what this experience has been like from your perspective, Steve.”

“Well, I’m not sure if I can describe it ‘simply,’ but I’ll try my best,” Steve said with a chuckle. “This has been the most incredible experience of my life. There was truly no better season that I could have been a part of, and it has not only been a joy to meet and get to know Bucky, but it’s been an honor. In case you can’t tell, this man is the love of my life. God, he just – he means absolutely everything to me. I love him more than I will ever be able to put into words, and I couldn’t be more excited for the future.”

As always, Bucky beamed at one of Steve’s perfect speeches, made even more special by the fact that he clearly improvised it on the spot. The crowd seemed to agree with riotous applause, jumping to their feet and making Bucky shake his head, still baffled that so many people were _this_ excited and invested in their relationship.

“That’s beautiful, Steve,” Janet said and turned to Bucky. “Obviously, you are planning to move in together after this, but can you tell us more about your plans for the future? Do you know what you would do with the fifty thousand if you won?”

Bucky nodded. “We’ve actually discussed this already, and we agreed that we would love to save some money for ourselves. I think Steve wants to spoil me with something unnecessary, and I’ll probably just invest my share into my portfolio.” Steve snorted, lovingly shaking his head, as if he expected nothing less from Bucky. “With the rest of the money, though, we do plan to invest it into our home, so that if anything were to happen between us, we could still walk away with a profit.”

In the same breath that he elevated the crowd’s excitement, mentioning their future home, Bucky immediately dashed their hopes and dreams. “Not that that’s the goal!” Steve amended quickly, laughing to himself, and Bucky nodded again.

“Right! Sorry! We definitely aren’t planning to break up. We plan to stay together for as long as we possibly can. I’m with this guy forever,” Bucky said, nudging Steve with his elbow and borrowing his phrase, “‘Til the end of the line, right?”

That particular line was certainly the correct one to quote, as the audience leaped to their feet again, clapping and cheering and chanting what sounded like the second word on Bucky’s t-shirt.

Once the fans quieted enough, Janet rose from her seat with flourish, as the lights appeared to dim around them. “Islanders, are you ready to learn the winners of Love Island Season 11?”

The applause gave Bucky and Steve the chance to stand beside each other and beside Sam and Riley, realigning themselves in front of the camera to be on the same plane. With his left hand, Bucky held Steve’s, and with his right, he held Riley’s. The four of them stood in a row, holding each other’s hands, connected together as friends, despite being each other’s final competition.

_Jesus,_ was Bucky ready to find out the winners? _Not at all!_ Two months of being on the show had been leading up to this exact moment. He never even wanted to be on the show, but now, he was in the finale, in the _final two couples_. He had a one-in-two chance of winning fifty thousand dollars to take home with his boyfriend to build their future house. And if they didn’t win, he would be just as happy. They would still be returning home to build that house, and it would be the most wonderful experience of Bucky’s life – in addition to this show, of course.

So, _yes_ , Bucky was ready.

Bucky was more than ready.

“Sam and Riley, Bucky and Steve,” Janet began, voice serious, as she stared down at her final notecard of the season, “this is it. This is the moment that you’ve been waiting for – what we’ve _all_ been waiting for throughout the entire show. Both of your relationships have truly exemplified the main goal of this show: finding _love_. In addition to finding love, you found lifelong partners, futures that you’ll build together and will last any potential obstacle. You are both completely deserving of this prize, but only one couple stole our viewers’ hearts the most. The top couple of Love Island 2020 is…”

As Janet paused for the ever-dramatic effect, Bucky felt the world appear to stop around him. Everyone seemed frozen in place, holding their breath, eyes open, as no one moved or inhaled or exhaled or blinked. Turning his head, Bucky realized that he was the only one capable of movement.

To his right, Bucky saw Riley, his new ‘best friend’ that he would apparently be returning home to start a podcast with, and Sam, the man who would be opening his heart away from the cameras, asking his boyfriend to become his fiancé.

Beside them, Bucky saw Thor and Jane and Carol and Val, his fellow competitors and friends, as they held each other close, arms and elbows tangled in a knot, eagerly awaiting the final results.

In front of him, Bucky saw Janet leading the audience in building the anticipation, ready to announce the winners and set the match to the kerosene that snaked around the villa, waiting to explode when those two names were read aloud.

Gazing through the lens of the main camera, Bucky saw the countless number of people, watching at home. He saw Nat, throwing popcorn at her TV, beside Clint, laughing with her and cracking jokes. He saw Hope and Scott and Peggy and Angie and Maria and Bruce and everyone else that he had met that summer, somehow leaving an impact on his life, influencing the relationship that brought him to this moment. He saw Becca and his Ma and the rest of their coworkers and friends and family, waiting for him to return home with his boyfriend.

And, finally, to his left, Bucky saw Steve.

The love of his life.

His heart and soul.

His everything.

Bucky saw Steve and his radiant eyes and ever-confident smile, and he knew that no matter the result of the final vote, Bucky felt like the true winner of the season.

After giving Steve one _final_ squeeze of his hand, Bucky turned his attention back to Janet, as she opened her mouth to announce:

“Bucky and Steve!”

At first, Bucky didn’t know how to react. He _couldn’t_ react. Utterly lost and unable to believe that he had heard Janet correctly. But then he heard the pop of streamers and confetti that showered over him. He heard the roaring of the crowd, screaming incoherently, nonsensically – happily, he hoped. He heard clearly when Riley pulled his unmoving body into a tight hug, shouting over the noise, “Bucky, you won!”

That simple-yet-unbelievable statement snapped Bucky out of his daze. He looked up again to see Sam beaming at him with his perfect smile, the other four Islanders jumping up and down, Janet clapping her hands, the camera lens reflecting back his shock, and the crowd chanting his and Steve’s names. Nearly giving himself whiplash, he turned to face the only man that he truly wanted to see: _Steve_.

Steve appeared in a similar state of surprise, mouth open, with his hand on his forehead. Knowing that he would find himself incapable of speech, Bucky leapt up, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, and kissed him. Their first kiss as the _winners_ of the season. Seemingly waking Steve from his own spell, Bucky felt those strong, familiar hands trail up his back, pressing them even closer together, as their mouths moved on instinct, practically ignoring everyone around them. Because none of them mattered. All that Bucky cared about was Steve, and all that Steve cared about was Bucky.

When they separated, eyes opening and immediately locking onto each other’s, Bucky noticed that the noise had quieted enough for him to only hear a faint ringing in his ears. His face burned hot, as if burned from the sun, and his lungs gasped for air, as if he had been drowning, overwhelmed with the rush of emotions and realizations.

One such realization presented itself clearly when Janet approached them after Sam and Riley moved off to the side, holding two red prop envelopes, sealed with a heart sticker. She allowed Bucky and Steve to pick one each and guided them to stand a few feet apart from each other. Nodding, Bucky followed the directions, not entirely sure why they were setting up the shot this way but not asking questions. As soon as she returned to her spot, a devilish grin took form on her face, as an excited tension fell over the crowd, whispers exchanged, standing on the tips of their toes.

Sensing the nervous energy, Bucky now felt the need to ask a question, directed at Steve. “Wait, what’s happening?”

The audience laughed, finally part of the joke of Bucky not understanding the process of the show, and Janet somehow lifted yet another notecard. “Congratulations, Bucky and Steve! As the winners of Love Island, we welcome you now to the final test of your relationship.”

A tamer applause sounded, and Bucky raised his eyebrows, glancing at Steve, waiting for a response or explanation.

But Janet continued before he could help, “Each of you hold an envelope. In one envelope, you will find the fifty thousand dollars, and in the other, you will find nothing. Whoever finds the fifty thousand dollars in their envelope will have the opportunity to choose whether to take the money, all for themselves, or to share it with their partner, splitting the prize to win twenty-five thousand dollars each. The choice is yours: money or love.”

_What?_ No, seriously, _what the fuck? When was Steve going to tell him about this part of the game?_

Before Bucky’s immediate anxieties could spiral out of control, however, questioning his boyfriend’s loyalty and morals, wondering if their entire relationship had been a ruse to con Bucky out of his share of the prize, Janet instructed Steve to open his envelope. He did so slowly, flipping open the top half and lowering the bottom half. When it was open, he gave it a single nod before turning it to show everyone that his envelope was blank.

Meaning that Bucky held the fifty thousand dollars.

Heart pounding in his throat, stomach suddenly queasy, Bucky opened his own envelope and squinted his eyes, struggling to accept the words FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS printed in large, bold font.

“Congratulations, Bucky!” Janet announced, while the crowd remained oddly quiet. “You now hold the power of choice. Would you like to keep the fifty thousand dollars, or would you like to share it with Steve?”

Bucky shook his head and glanced at Steve, silently asking why he never told him that he would potentially face this decision if they won. Did Steve not expect to win? Or did he not want to influence Bucky’s choice, giving him the option of keeping the money for himself, without any regard to his own feelings?

_Shit_.

Fifty thousand dollars was an enormous amount of money that could make an incredible impact on his life. He could upgrade his office and give his secretary a much-deserved bonus for handling that office, while he gallivanted off across the ocean on a reality show for the summer. He could help Becca finish paying off her student loans, and he could repay his Ma for the years and years of support. He could buy a hell of a lot of designer clothes and shoes to expand the secret section of his wardrobe.

(But Bucky knew that he could do all of that with his own salary too.)

Turning away from the host, the other Islanders, the camera, and the audience, Bucky extended his hand to his boyfriend, ready to announce his decision. “I’m ready to go home, Steve. _Our_ home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /Roll credits/
> 
> Where do I even begin?
> 
> Allow me to first say THANK YOU. Seriously, I say it every single chapter, but I can’t say it enough. I felt so strongly about this story that I planned to post it every single day even if not a single person read it, so the fact that so many of you have decided to give it a read and have made it all the way to the end means more to me than you will ever know. There are quite a few people that I could name-drop who have been here since the very first chapter, commenting on nearly (if not) every chapter, but I won’t mention you without your permission; please, allow me to thank you personally in the comments 😊 Even if you joined half-way through, yesterday, or are reading this well into the future (hi, time travelers!), you are just as special to me. 
> 
> Truly, to each and every one of you, thank you so much.
> 
> If you really loved this story, something that would be incredibly helpful is for you to SHARE it – in any way that you can. Reblogs are absolutely huge, especially to a relatively new writer, and sharing it with friends is also so beneficial in helping creative works grow. Now that the story is finished, maybe one of you will even feel inclined to recommend it to one of the amazing fic rec blogs in the fandom, and I definitely would not be opposed to that - and might even encourage it...😂 (My blog - buckyandthejets)
> 
> Now, I must ask…what did you think?? 😅 What were your favorite moments/scenes/chapters? Things that made you laugh/cry/smile? Any details that stuck with you? Anything! If you have a minute, I would LOVE to know all your thoughts - if you’ve commented before or if you never have, now is the perfect time! 
> 
> Turning to the future, it’s no secret that I am already dying to write in this universe again, and I am very excited to announce that our first follow-up should be coming out (fingers crossed) December/January. Get ready for some 🎄🎄🎄 vibes!
> 
> But, aside from that, what else would you like to see from this universe? I have quite a few ideas in my mind, but I am always open to accept many, many more – so please feel free to share
> 
> Since I’ll be away from ao3 (as a writer, that is) for quite some time, now is the perfect time to subscribe to my profile and follow me on Tumblr if you haven’t yet @ buckyandthejets. I’ll be more active on my blog in the down-time, so if you ever want to reach out and ask how these boys are doing at any time, please feel free send me an ask (seriously, please do 😅) (Also, if you’re one of those people who commented regularly and followed me but I haven’t followed back/interacted at all, please shoot me a message; it’s very likely that I missed the notification)
> 
> 🎧 “End of the Game” – Weezer 
> 
> (We started this journey with Weezer; we’re ending it with Weezer - no apologies)
> 
> Thank you again – Katie 🏝🏝🏝

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Too hot to handle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990123) by [diner_drama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diner_drama/pseuds/diner_drama)




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